Kettle's Knot
by SignsOfSun
Summary: Two new chapters up! Chapters 6 and 7! Summary: Don takes on a manhunt as his own personal quest. He reluctantly ends up with Charlie and his team in tow. And the personal quest becomes an adventure for all along for the ride.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Kettle's Knot

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure.

Note: For any readers who are also CSI readers and are awaiting my next _Touched By Gravity_ chapter we are looking at next weekend or the one after. I know I had gotten a few messages about it. It's been a case of no time. I've been working full time, part time second job, and getting ready to go back for a second degree (Criminal Justice. YAY!). But I have a glorious window of opportunity before next semester begins to be a fan fiction writing machine. I'm all geared up to spend the rest of the summer with all my favorite characters!

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_Kettle's Knot_

"So this is what I have been reduced to? Or rather promoted to I guess," Don muttered to his desk, computer, and lamp. His late night companions offered no comment or reassurance. Exhaustion had him considering for a fraction of a second that they actually might. He would have sworn that his light had actually backed him up an hour earlier when he'd been searching for a file lost in the shuffle. Maybe his vision had gone blurry from lack of sleep but hadn't the lamp nodded to the left a little, directing him where the file was located? Shaking his head, Don pulled open his middle desk drawer and rummaged around in the debris there. Finally spotting the box of Bandaids he scooped them up and slid the drawer closed while eyeing his little adjustable desk lamp suspiciously.

"We never had this talk, got it?" he whispered, throwing a wink in the light's direction. Then he opened the box in his hand and selected a small Bandaid from the assortment. He tossed the box on top of the mountain of reports, tore off the Bandaid's wrapper, and leaned back in his chair.

"Ah the glamorous life of a FBI team leader!" he announced, applying the Bandaid over the latest paper cut on his right index finger. He didn't use to have his desk stocked with the miniature bandages, not before moving up the ranks. Now he was fairly confident if he went scouting he'd be able to pull three or four half empty boxes from the various drawers in his desk.

He and his brother certainly were a pair. Charlie often emerged from the garage looking like he was ambushed by an army of chalk and Don left his office looking as if his hands had gone ten rounds with a forest's worth of paper. Don allowed a faint chuckle to escape his body. In the end, the chalk and the paper were always taken down by the Eppes brothers though. And many times the battles were much harder to win than the residual results of chalk covered clothes or Bandaid covered hands made them first appear.

Blowing out a long exhale Don slid down, crumpled, in his chair. He went over the evidence in his mind; the occurrence of talking to office furniture, a minor job related injury, and the time displayed on the corner of his computer monitor as 4:05am. The evidence always lead you somewhere and this particular day it built the case that maybe it was time to pack it in for this inning of the game.

"I don't suppose I could convince you fine pieces of FBI office decor to keep workin' while I'm gone, could I?" he inquired hopefully, finally propelling his weary body to a standing position. Retrieving the box of Bandaids from the stack of reports and tossing it back in the drawer, only silence filled the air.

"Guess not. What kind of team players are you?" he teased, smirking at the monitor. Again only silence responded.

"It's always the quiet ones," he remarked and began gathering up the papers, folders, and photographs. After collecting every last page he secured them in his desk, locked the desk drawer, and turned to the computer monitor. After saving and closing all his documents and spreadsheets he shut down the system he turned to the desk lamp.

"Packing it in for the night," he stated and switched it off.

"Agent Eppes, you've officially and finally gone off the deep end." Those were his departing words as he headed off through the maze of desks and offices. Two minutes later the cool predawn air splashed across his face as he exited out of the door of the FBI building. He paused for a few heartbeats, visually taking in the sights and sounds of the city at the early hour. There was always noise, a background static, even at such an hour. True quiet didn't exist inside city limits. Nor did the depths of darkness. It was a love hate relationship. In the city you were never really alone, keeping you ever alert and watchful. The mind was constantly soaking up and sifting through the sounds and sights, the constant stimulus created by mankind and of a place never truly at rest. There had been moments Don longed for quiet, just a few precious moments in which his mind could rest, and other times he was immensely grateful for that distraction, thousands of pieces of information to provide distraction and excuses from being alone in your own head. Tonight, or this morning rather, exhaustion trumped all that debris stacking up in his mind. He set out towards his SUV with the sole mission of going home and submerging himself in the luxurious comfort of his bed.

Even though his strides were not long or powerful he arrived at the parked vehicle quickly, unlocking it from a few feet before reaching the driver's side door. He slipped into the front seat and brought the vehicle to life. The interior of the car was instantly saturated with the pulse of a guitar riff. The unexpectedness of the blast of sound sent Don scrambling to reach the button on the console that would lower the volume to a level suitable for four a.m.. He jammed at the button with the tip of his index finger while reminding himself to always remember to turn down the radio before exiting the vehicle. There may have been a few profanities mixed in with the mental note writing. And even though his mother's scolding rang out inside his head still after all these years, he gave himself a pass. Just like the other thousands of times over the last two decades or so. It was late and they just wrapped up a monster of a trafficking case. A few choice curse words were certainly understandable under the circumstances. Blowing out a weighted breath he put the SUV in gear and headed out into the lonely streets of the early morning.

As the miles passed by Don found himself navigating in the direction of Charlie's. He had intended to go to his apartment and crawl into bed, staying there as long as possible. He figured he must have been so thoroughly exhausted that autopilot had clicked in and since he was more frequently at Charlie's and his father's place than his own that his body took that path. In fact he'd gotten as far as turning down their street before he was fully aware of what he had done. He pulled into the driveway and at first was simply going to turn around and head in the direction of his apartment. But he found himself rubbing at his face with his palms to stay alert and changed his plan. He'd use his key to sneak in and crash on the couch for a few hours. So he parked and sluggishly climbed out of the vehicle.

The house was dark and the neighborhood was quiet. The only other soul that seemed to be still awake in the vicinity was the newspaper delivery guy who was parked at the end of the block, gathering papers from his trunk. The thought raced across Don's brain that his work schedule was so far from normal that he wasn't sure there was a category for it. And suddenly felt oddly connected to the lanky blonde hippie looking newspaper guy. You had to be a little off center to be out working the wee hours of the morning.

This train of thought still meandering through his mind Don quietly unlocked the front door and slipped inside. There were sounds of movement from the kitchen. He suspected that perhaps Charlie had been pulling an all-nighter himself and gotten the munchies. It won't be the first time. Don made his way there and pushed open the door, finding his father instead of his little brother.

Alan jerked his gaze in Don's direction, responding to the noise. A rather surprised look captured the older man's face.

"Don?"

"Memory still intact I see," Don commented, moving to the refrigerator.

"Very funny. I was expecting your brother that's all."

"You're one step ahead of me than. I wasn't expecting to see anyone actually up."

"Why are you here at this hour? Everything alright?" Alan inquired and replaced the cap on the orange juice container. Don grabbed a beer and leaned against the edge of the counter. He didn't respond right away so Alan asked again.

"What's up Don?"

"Nothing. I just sort of…never mind."

"What?"

"Don't laugh."

"Okay, I won't laugh."

"I sort of drove here by accident."

"I don't understand."

"I left work and intended to go back to my apartment and ended up here. Since I was already here I thought I might catch a few Zs on the couch." A smile arrived on Alan's face, but he managed to hold back the chuckle that threatened to follow it. The fact that his son was always so unforgiving of himself for the smallest of human errors was a strange mix of concern and pride for Alan Eppes.

"You were just tired, Donnie. Happens to the best of us."

"Yeah, well, what if I had been on the job and drove to the wrong house."

"But you weren't. It worked out. And I, for one, am glad to see you. Even if it is at …" he paused and glanced at the microwave then continued, "four forty five in morning."

"Yeah you, me, and the newspaper guy are the only three morons still awake."

"Oak," Alan jumped in with.

"Oak?"

"Yes. Oak. That's the newspaper guy's name."

"You're serious? Someone actually named their child after a tree."

"It was the 60's."

"I guess I feel lucky my name's not Elm then."

"Yes you should. Speaking of papers I'll see if ours has arrived," Alan stated with a smirk and headed across the kitchen.

"A guy named Oak delivering newspapers," Don commented to himself as his father exited the kitchen. Don took a sip of beer and blew out a breath. Sleep was calling to him, but a brief visit with his father was inviting too. His cell phone ringing cut short the need to make an immediate decision. He put the beer down on the counter and grabbed the cell from his belt.

"Eppes."

"Agent Eppes. This is Bill Simmons."

"Agent Simmons. How are things in D.C.?" Don offered politely. He had only been introduced to Simmons a handful of times back when he had visited their office in Albuquerque.

"Good. Good. I realize it's early out your way so I won't keep you long."

"Appreciate it. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I know you have worked with and are acquainted with Agent Ian Edgerton?"

"Yes. Good agent."

"Yes he is. A pain in the ass, but good nonetheless."

Don let a chuckle escape into the phone. Edgerton could certainly be a pain the ass, but a pain the ass that was well worth your trouble.

"He wouldn't happen to have come through your territory recently would he?" Simmons slipped the question out calmly. The underlying hopeful tone of the inquiry didn't settle well with Don. His gut churned slightly and he swallowed hard.

"Not in six months or so. Is there a problem?"

"Just …doing some follow up." For an FBI agent the cover was lame at best. Although Simmons, if Don recalled correctly, had instantly presented himself as an agent happier to wear a paper pushing suit than bullet resistant vest. Good cover was probably not his forte.

"If you think he might have been through here more recently I would certainly offer my office's assistance in whatever he is working on," Don offered in a carefully worded prompting. Don was more certain with each passing second something was wrong.

"Appreciated. But we have it handled."

"We've just wrapped up our top priority case so my team is available to offer to be of service," Don stated, pushing back harder.

"Not necessary. I'm sure he'll..." Simmons began, but seemingly caught himself before letting something slip.

"Agent Simmons, I apologize for my bluntness but you are calling me at five in the morning. Now clearly the reason for your call is a matter of urgency. You are only delaying my team assisting you by not telling me why."

The other agent didn't respond verbally, but Don could make out the frustrated heavy exhaled breath from the opposite end of the line. There was a silent beat before Simmons cleared his throat and resigned himself to offering detail.

"Agent Edgerton was tracking someone in the Cascades. We are…currently unable to locate him."

"How long?"

"Last known contact was twelve days ago."

"Twelve days! And he hasn't been located. He's an agent for god sakes!"

"Agent Eppes you need to understand he doesn't exactly keep detailed notes as he goes. He just takes off, we try to keep up, and we make him do the paper later. Not to mention you certainly understand procedu…"

"No. No. I don't need to understand anything. Absolutely not. He is an FBI agent, a damn good one, and you're telling me he has been missing for two weeks and there's no progress! And he went MIA from the Cascades and you are calling me all the way down here in L.A. Do you have any leads at all?"

"You know as well as I do that it happens."

"No. What I know is that it's completely unacceptable!" Don snapped and slammed closed the phone. He managed to catch himself in half pitch about to hurl the cell at the wall. Instead he roughly replaced the phone back into its place on his belt and ran a palm through his hair. He turned left but suddenly realized he didn't know where he had intended on going. So he didn't actually head in any particular direction, just ended up making a pointless circle.

Agent Edgerton was missing. The thought danced around his mind, spinning and gliding through his thoughts. In the wildest creations of his imagination he never would have come up with that as an event that would ever actually come to be. This was Ian Edgerton. This was the Bureau's best tracker and one of their best marksmen. This was a damn good agent. _Twelve days missing_. If it weren't for the fact that Edgerton was, well, _Edgerton_ this would certainly be a case of a mission to recover the body of an agent. But if a chance existed this is the agent who would skirt the odds. There was a definite possibility that Ian Edgerton was still alive, somewhere out there. And if he was he was probably in need of some back up and not the kind of back up Agent Simmons could provide. This was more than likely the shoot first, ask a lot of questions later, if possible, kind of back up.

Don ran his fingers through his disheveled hair again and began to pace.

"Don, what's wrong?" Alan asked, arriving back in the kitchen with newspaper in hand. Don only continued to pace from the counter to the wall and back, lost in his own internal distress.

"Don, what's wrong? What happened?" his father demanded. The stressed deeply worried look on his son's face shot a bolt of panic through him.

"Huh? What?"

"What happened?"

"I'm alright. I gotta go!" Don replied heading for the door. Fortunately, Alan was closer and intercepted the attempt with a large sidestep to the left.

"It's obvious something happened. Now tell me what's wrong? Is it Charlie?" his father's voice asked worriedly.

"Oh no Dad. Charlie's fine. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Something with work then?"

"I really need to head out," Don prompted. Reluctantly his father stepped away from the door and Don departed through it rapidly.

"I'll take that as a yes," Alan stated to the empty air around him. Sometimes his son was a complete mystery to him. Don was definitely frazzled though so Alan trailed him out the through the doorway in hopes of making one final plea.

Luckily, Don had stopped, but not because he intended to talk. Charlie had appeared trotting excitedly up the driveway. Where exactly he had come from wasn't clear. It hadn't been the direction of the garage so he must have been off down the street somewhere on foot. It was obvious, at least to Don and Alan, there had been some theorizing and experiment taking place. Charlie was juggling more gear than he could handle gracefully. He had stopped right in front of Don, blocking his path. The near giddy grin on Charlie's face showed that whatever he had been doing had gone well. He was practically bouncing on his tip toes.

"Hey Don!"

"Hi buddy! What you got goin' on?"

'Well, I was down at the little park. Ya know down the street. Trying to determine if..." the younger man let his words drift off. Between the half interested and stressed expression covering his brother's face and the look his father shot at him it was clearly not the time to revel in his discovery. So he stopped talking and all three Eppes men just ended up standing there, stalled, for a moment.

Alan in his bathrobe and slippers. Young Dr. Eppes adorned with binoculars, camera, tripod, notebooks, gigantic backpack, and night vision goggles. And Don dressed in the world's most wrinkled clothes and looking like he hadn't slept in several months. Alan took the opportunity it presented to try and reel his elder son back in.

"Donnie, if it's something you wouldn't be breaking confidentiality for, you should talk to us. Clearly it's got you upset."

"You guys remember Ian Edgerton?" Don asked after a tense moment.

"The tracking guru?" Charlie responded.

"That's him."

"A friend of yours?" Alan asked, certain he'd heard the name before from both his sons but unable to place a face.

"Yeah. We've worked together before. He's an agent. Fugitive recovery."

"Oh yes. I recall him now. He back in town or something?"

"No. Actually he was tracking someone up in the mountains and he went missing."

"Doesn't he do that though? Just take off when he finds a lead?" Charlie jumped in with, sounding rather confused.

"Not like this Charlie. He's been out of contact for twelve days. Agent Edgerton wouldn't do that. Not for that long. The only reason for it is if something went seriously wrong."

"I'm sorry to hear that Donnie!" his father chimed in with. Charlie's voice trailed right after it.

"I'm sure he's fine Don. I mean from what I saw the guy can clearly find his way out of very precarious situations."

"Yeah I guess," Don replied. The hint of defeat in his son's voice didn't go unnoticed by Alan.

"Don, why don't you come back in. I'll make all three of us breakfast. When's the last time you ate? Got to eat, right?"

"I appreciate it Dad, but I really should head back out and see what I can do."

"I'm sure they have half the Bureau out searching for him."

"I know Dad, but…"

"Donnie?" Alan practically whispered. It was only one word, but its tone suggested that it was absurd for Don to race back out without food or sleep.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I need to work the search," Don replied and wearily made his way back to his SUV. Together Alan and Charlie watched him pull out of the driveway and into the street. Within seconds the SUV's taillights had melted away into the night.

"This Edgerton guy he's a good buddy of Don's?" Alan asked his younger son.

"Let's put it this way. I've been around Don quite a bit while he's on the job and I don't think I've seen him respect another agent the way he respects Ian Edgerton."

"Oh boy. We're in for a long haul on this one."

"You said it, not me," Charlie replied before trekking across the lawn towards the garage.

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Kettle's Knot

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure.

Notes: I had created this series before the season finale. And ultimately this series is "out of time" and could have occurred at any time prior to the finale. So I decided not to edit due to that. Plus I confess I love Colby so he stays as he was in my original plan.

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_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 2**_

Weary eyed, Don blinked and struggled to refocus the image in front of him on the computer monitor. The thick lines representing main highways and state routes had begun to blur together, eroding away any clarity to their direction. The finer lines on the map were fading into invisibility. He had dialed Agent Simmons back up and convinced him to share what details he possessed. Nothing was free though. The paper pushing D.C. based agent now had a few favor chips that he could cash in at will. Don was not particularly keen on that idea, but it was part of the game. He could play the game, just didn't care to. Most times it was the bottom of the barrel last resort.

The case file for the fugitive Edgerton had been tracking was hefty, but the geographic path of his search sketchy at best. Simmons words echoed inside his mind, _"H__e doesn't exactly keep detailed notes as he goes. He just takes off, we try to keep up, and we make him do the paper later." _He had been right about that. Edgerton's last reported in location was vague, encompassing several hundred miles of countryside near the border between Oregon and Washington. It included both mountainous terrain and valleys littered with small quiet towns. Edgerton would have been right in his element, dead on bull's eye. That fact grated relentlessly on Don's instincts. In that environment, Ian would have had to have encountered quite an adversary not to have emerged days ago.

Don turned his gaze away the map to the printed copy of the case file laying open on the edge of the desk. The name _**Troy Grafton**_ in bold black ink called out to him, daring him give chase.

And it was just what he was going to do.

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"Give me back country, give me the big city, but I couldn't give a damn if I ever set foot in another desert again!" Colby stated sharply, turning the corner into their team's pod of cubicles. The disgust embedded in his voice was freely displayed. He dropped down into his desk chair and leaned back, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Do I sense a bit of distaste for the more arid climates of our planet?" David smart mouthed back and stopped across the desk from where his partner sat.

"Yeah if _dislike_ is defined as I'd rather spend six months trapped on a submarine at the bottom of the Bering Sea with a bunch of navy guys," the other man tossed back.

"Ouch! So this is what months on end in a tent in the desert does to a man?" Colby simply grinned in reply. It was actually truthful. He'd pick the sub at the bottom of any one of the coldest bodies of water on the planet over another minute in the desert in a heartbeat.

"Weren't in Kansas anymore, were ya?" David replied.

"Idaho."

"My mistake. You weren't in _Idaho_ anymore, were ya?"

"Nope and me without my ruby slippers to get back home."

"Ruby slippers, Colby? I figured you for more of a classic mid heel kinda guy." Megan jumped in with, appearing around the corner and heading towards her desk. She slipped by behind David who latched on to the opening she created.

"Yeah you might have a point considering. Where do you buy your shoes anyway, Granger, the clown supply store?" David inquired, ducking as a wadded up ball of paper came flying out of Colby's hand straight at his head. Sinclair was spared. The paper ball whizzed by him and promptly hit Don in the face as he rounded the corner into the aisle.

"Oops!" Colby commented under his breath and gritted his teeth, awaitng the repercussions.

"What is this kindergarten? Stop clowning around!" the team leader grumbled and stomped on by without another word.

"Whoa! Wrong side of the bed or what?" David suggested, scooping up the paper from the floor.

"By the look of him I'd say it was more a case of not actually making it into one," Megan stated. Her gaze trailed Don as he marched into the break room.

"He did look a little rough around the edges," Colby offered, straightening up in his chair.

"There's an understatement," Megan responded.

"Well, I am an understated kind of guy. As I'm sure you know," Colby stated, grinning sweetly at her.

"Yeah understated. Like a group of sailors on leave in bar kind of way," Megan tossed back. She threw him a smile and headed down the aisle, in search of her boss. Finding him pouring himself a coffee Megan entered the break room and leaned against the edge of the counter a few feet away.

"Don? What's up?" she asked softly.

"What makes you think anything is up?"

"I've seen you throw your fair share of paper basketballs. Airplanes too for that matter. In fact, I think I recall a few paper wars that were instigated by you."

"Didn't exactly get a full night's rest, that's all."

"You sure there's not more?"

"Yes Megan. I'm positive."

"If you say so."

"Well, I do." A tense silence settled in for a handful of seconds before Don spoke again.

"I'm taking some personal days. You're up on all the cases we got going, right?"

"Yeah I think I've got a handle on it. Kind of sudden isn't it? Or did I miss you saying you were taking vacation time and just forgot."

"Just figured we wrapped up that trafficking case yesterday. It was good timing is all."

"How long you gone for?"

"Couple days. Could be more."

"No specific plans then?"

"I have a general direction."

"Not telling huh?"

"Nope!" Don answered with a slick grin and exited out of the quiet of the break room back into the chatter of the bull pen. He'd brief the team and then part with them until Agent Edgerton was found.

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Charlie tucked his sunglasses inside the front pocket of his campus carry all and slung the strap of the bag over his shoulder. The Los Angeles office of the Federal Bureau Of Investigation loomed overhead. He pulled open the door and headed into the security checkpoint area. The flow in and out was particularly heavy this morning and although the procedure was efficient he seemed to move incredibly slowly up the line.

The initial adrenaline rush from his early morning discovery in the park had melted away into a faint steady contented simmer inside him. Once it had been watered down a little the full impact of the conversation he had had with his brother sunk into his mind. Charlie had stated his impression about Don's respect from Agent Edgerton to their father without much true thought about it. But once he had emerged a little from the focus of his own pre-occupied thoughts the truth of his own words was staring him in the face. Don truly did respect Edgerton. His older brother seemed to hold people with a strong sense of balance in high regard. An intense aura of a fine tuned inner equilibrium radiated off Edgerton. The younger Eppes brother had noted it the first time they met.

Finally making the head of the line Charlie was cleared to go upstairs. He moved briskly to the bank of elevators and managed to just skirt inside one headed up as its doors were closing. He was eager to offer his skills. Certainly with a search he could be of use. Don hadn't visited much in recent days. There had been a major trafficking case his team had been working and from what his brother had said about it its conclusion had come down to a paper chase more than anything else. It was swayed more towards the legal rather than mathematical arena. So Don had fallen back into the pattern of being absent more than not.

The doors of the elevator slid open and he wasted no time making his way towards his brother's desk. As soon as he made the corner he could see that Don's cube was empty. The desk lamp and computer monitor were dark. His brother's chair was pushed up against the desk in disuse.

"Hey guys!" he greeted the remaining team members with.

"Hey Charlie!"

"Where's Don hiding out?"

"You just missed him. He headed out a few minutes ago. Surprised you didn't pass him on the way in," Megan answered.

"When's he due back?"

"What do you mean?" she tossed out.

"I mean…when's he coming back?" His question was just answered by a confused stare from Megan.

"_Back_?" she finally inquired.

"Yes back…._here_? I didn't realize this was such a difficult question."

"He took some personal days. I just assumed you knew."

"Personal days? I don't understand. Couple hours ago he was so insistent."

"You've lost me."

"Wait! If Don left does that mean he was located."

"Who was located?"

"This conversation is getting more confusing by the nanosecond," Charlie commented and took in a big breath.

"Well, we agree on something then," Megan stated.

"Agent Edgerton. They must have found him if Don took vacation days."

"Ian Edgerton?"

"Yes. You don't know, do you? Don didn't say it was a secret." He looked rather frantically around the group, from Megan to David and Colby and back.

"Charlie, calm down. What is this about Edgerton?"

"Well, Don was at the house this morning. He got a call. I don't know who called him, but it appears that Agent Edgerton was tracking a fugitive and went missing almost two weeks ago." His words were followed by an exchange of odd looks between the three agents. So Charlie continued.

"You didn't know this. I hope I haven't said something I wasn't supposed to."

"I'm sure it's fine Charlie," David reassured.

"Don was so set on working the search. I just assumed he'd be here."

"A general direction," Megan whispered and shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Just something Don said before he left. I asked if he had any specific plans for his time off and he said he had and I quote '_a general direction_'. Now I know what he meant."

"He's going off to join the search. To find Edgerton."

"I'd bet my paycheck on it," Reeves replied.

"Wait! By himself? But..."

"To join the search Charlie. Don wouldn't just go off without back up. You know that."

"Wait! Aren't we his back up? I mean we are his team after all," David chimed in with. Colby swiveled contently back and forth in his chair and offered his thoughts.

"After that last case, nothing but legal mumbo jumbo and mountains of mind numbing paperwork. I'm up for a good old manhunt or search and rescue."

"Guys, Don took personal days to do this. We have cases. We can't just…" Megan began, but her words trailed off into non existence as the disappointed child kind of look washed over Colby Granger's face. She shifted her gaze to Charlie and David and was about to start over, but they had apparently been taking lessons from Colby.

"I guess it doesn't hurt to ask."

"Yes!" Colby cried out, an eager smile lighting his face. He spun around in the chair, but Megan grabbed its arm, stopping the twirl after only one revolution.

"_Ask_, Colby. Don't hold your breath!" she instructed and departed the pod of cubicles to submit their plea with the higher ups. It was a long shot at best. Although she could be quite persuasive when she was so inclined and truth be told she was with the guys. Their place was to back up their team lead, whether that team lead liked it or not.

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Special Agent Don Eppes had been ambushed and subsequently conned. The plan had been to go back to his apartment, grab a few hours of sleep, gather up a duffle bag worth of clothing, and head north. He had already contacted the agent in command of the search and alerted him of his estimated time of arrival. The rest was simple or so he had thought.

He had gotten pretty far through the plan too. All went smoothly until he looked up from tossing his bag with the change of clothes in the back end of his truck. There they had been, the four of them, piled into a Bureau SUV pulling into the parking lot of his building. David had been at the wheel, Colby beside him, and Reeves and his brother in the back. He knew instantly he had been found out.

A battle of wills had ensued. Don had been winning for a while, using his seniority to his advantage. But of all things his little brother had duped him with math. He should have known to keep his mouth shut to Charlie's yes or no answer logic questions. Because once he drew you down that path you were doomed to have to agree to whatever it was he had set out to persuade you of.

Don shook his head and silently reminded himself he should have known better. Look where it had landed him. The plan of a solo trip had been blown all to hell. He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal harder and tried to just focus his irritation on the yellow and white lines laid out ahead of him.

"How many more hours did you say it was?" Colby inquired from the backseat of Don's SUV. His boss glanced away from the highway and into the rearview.

"If you utter the words '_are we there yet?' _I'll pull this car over and you and me will duke it out on the side of the I-5. You got me?" he stated, dead seriousness in his voice.

"Save your energy for Grafton. I only ask because from the size of this file it may take me the entire trip to get caught up," Colby answered back and shifted his gaze back down to the open file in his lap.

"It's your lucky day Granger. You chose to ride with me and Chuck so you get the file."

"Yeah lucky me! I should call Megan and David back there in the other car and read them the file. I mean we wouldn't want them to be left out, right?" Colby stated jokingly.

"Not in your best interest," Charlie jumped in with, twisting around from the front passenger seat.

"Oh yeah. Why's that?" Colby asked, curious but not enough to look up from reading.

"Well, taking into account the number of miles we have to travel and the rather intimidating size of the file I figure your cell bill would be somewhere in the neighborhood of your next pay check."

"I think we could get the FBI to foot the bill, don't you Don?"

"Think again cheap skate!" The reply came from the driver's seat. This changed the other agent's tune.

"Or we could let them relax for a while. Ya know listen to some tunes, do a little bonding between team members. They've earned it. I'll bring them up to speed when we get there," Granger instantly tossed back, fake generosity lacing his voice.

"On second thought, great idea Granger! I didn't get to read the whole thing. I don't know about you Charlie, but I could use a little story to pass the miles."

"Excellent idea!" Charlie responded, settling comfortably into the seat. He leaned back against the seat and head rest and closed his eyes.

"Okay educate me about Troy Grafton," he continued a beat later.

"You're kidding, right?" Colby asked. Dread of the answer filled his voice.

"Nope! You insisted on coming along. I do recall something about, what was it, your skills being useful. So make yourself useful. Start reading," Don instructed, smiling back at his agent in the mirror.

"Two can play at that game," Colby replied under his breath. He looked down at the file, cleared his throat, and dug in. They wanted Grafton's history. They were about to get it _verbatim_.

"Name. Troy Darrell Grafton. Date of birth. March 15, 1966. Place of birth. Tulsa, Oklahoma. Father. William Joseph Grafton. Mother: Mary Marin Grafton. Siblings. Brother. Nathan Grafton, born September 2, 1962. Brother. Michael Grafton, born May 6, 1972. Half sister. Sarah Grafton, born January 16, 1974. Height. Six feet two inches. Hair color. Brown. Eye color. Blue."

Colby's voice stopped abruptly and Don looked back in the mirror's reflection. He watched Colby unscrew the cap to his bottle of water and chug three fourths of it down. When he'd finished he caught Don's glare in the mirror.

"Thirsty. All the reading I guess. You got more bottled water in the back, right?"

"You know it." Don replied, sounding sickeningly enthusiastic. He could out last Granger in this game. And once he had sealed his victory he would promptly throttle the man.

"Good, gonna need it. Now where was I? Ah yes! Physical markings. Tattoo. Right upper bicep."

"How long do you think he can keep going?" Charlie whispered to his brother, leaning over towards the driver's side.

"Let's put it this way. All those bottles of water in the cooler back there."

"Yeah what about 'em?" Charlie responded.

"We'll need to stop and restock."

"You're joking, right?" Charlie pleaded.

"Afraid not, Chuck!" Don informed him. He knew Colby could hear them and that let a little satisfaction surface. His irritation had faded slightly and this game might be an opportunity to have a bit of fun. After all he was driving, Colby was chugging water, and they were on the highway going seventy miles an hour. There were things that could persuade Colby Granger to abort the mission he had set out on. Don tuned back into his surroundings. Colby's narration filtered back to his ears full volume.

"Education. Graduated. Lawrence High School. 1984."

Don could feel his brother's gaze on him so he glanced to the right. Charlie just scrunched up his face and squinted at him. He was trying to convey some message nonverbally, but it wasn't getting through so Charlie spoke his thoughts inside in a hushed voice.

"We're leaving him at the next rest stop, right?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure are!" Don answered back and let out a laugh.

"I heard that. Places of residence. Tulsa, Oklahoma. Salt Lake City, Utah. Detroit, Michigan……"

----00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000----

Troy Grafton pulled a pair of gloves from his jacket pocket, slipped them on, and set to work. He rapidly and systematically searched the backpack that sat at his feet. The sole item he removed was a cell phone that was inside the front pouch. He tossed it down into the dirt to the left of the pack. He would smash the cell into oblivion, destroying the possibility of getting a signal and along with it the GPS chip. The locator was the more urgent to be dealt with. In the place he stood there wasn't a signal to be had for many many miles.

After inspecting every compartment of the knapsack he was fairly confident that there wasn't anything else that held a tracking device. But there was no way to know for certain without taking apart everything, including the bag itself. He had three options at his fingertips. The first was immediately disqualified. Using the lighter in his pocket to torch the pack would be like putting up a flare to his location. That left burying it or drowning it. Burying it was good, reducing the odds of it being found. But drowning it would most probably wash away any traces he left of himself. In addition, in the event there was another tracker hidden somewhere, perhaps in the fabric of the bag itself, drowning it would help that. He swayed to that option and finally committed to it. The pack would go into the river a few hundred yards east of his present location. The pack's owner had either shed it because of inability to carry it or had gotten separated from it and was forced to leave to it behind.

Grafton squatted down and examined the exterior of the knapsack thoroughly. The left strap and entire back underneath the straps were stained with dried blood, no doubt a result of a certain encounter a day prior. At the very least one of his bullets had hit its mark. Hopefully more, but he would take what he could get. He chuckled to himself, pleased with his accomplishment. His knowledge of the location had gifted him a tiny window of advantage and he had seized it.

He had had a persistent and skillful shadow tagging along on his journey northward for days. The unwanted traveling companion was some damn fed. A fed that had royally pissed him off more than any other lawman they had ever sent. This one had come too close for comfort, missing his prey by the narrowest of margins. A few more seconds in one particular instance and it would have had the wrong ending. Grafton had only felt his presence, known he was there by sense alone. Until, using his intimate knowledge of the area, he lay in wait for his shadow. Even then it had only been a glimpse of the man's face. The glimpse he had gotten was through his rifle's scope in the heartbeat before he had pulled the trigger. But this one was definitely the best of the bunch because as swiftly as he had appeared in sight he had vanished again. He was being hunted by a ghost.

Grafton smiled down at the backpack. His shadow was out there now, in the surrounding miles of countryside, shot and preferably dying a slow agonizing death.

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Kettle's Knot

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure.

Note: Thanks for the reviews!!!

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_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 3**_

Charlie's soft footfalls crunched in the dirt after Don's stronger ones. The younger man wasn't fully awake yet so he trailed his brother slightly along the path from their cabin to the main lodge. Don allowed himself a yawn. Late summer was settling in over the mountains and morning shadows lingered, leaving the narrow road with little hint of the sun's impeding rise above the horizon. He was more alert than Charlie, but still five hours of sleep just wasn't enough. Turning his gaze to the sky Don finally broke the quiet of their walk.

"Sun will be up soon."

"Mmmm. S'true," Charlie replied groggily. Don smiled. His brother had no problem working into the wee hours of the morning, it was just the getting up at the crack of dawn that he had trouble with.

"I just need to check in with the agent in charge and then we'll get some breakfast in you. That'll help wake you up."

"Don't want wake up. Too early. Birds not even awake," Charlie replied, conservative of how many words he spoke. He feared if he used his voice too much it would drag him from the cozy residue of slumber he was lingering so contently inside of. His older brother let out a chuckle.

"Okay, Chuck, but you'll miss the view."

"There's a view?" Charlie replied curious but a bit suspect. He was not completely convinced this wasn't a trick. He wouldn't put it past Don to do that. So he let his eyelids remain at three quarters closed. It was enough to make sure he wouldn't slam into anything, but not enough to take in the scenery. The sound of Don's footsteps ceased in front of him. Charlie managed to stop just short of colliding with him. When he stood there, dozing on his feet, Don placed a hand on each shoulder from behind and rotated him to the right ninety degrees.

"Open those peepers Chuck!" he cried out. The surprise at the volume of his brother's voice shot his eyelids up and it turned out there was a view after all. A magnificent lake was laid out before him. Its water so calm it mirrored the pastel blue of the early morning sky and the majestic mountains that guarded it in a semicircle at the far end perfectly. The first rays of sunlight illuminated their summits, giving them a surreal golden glow.

"Wow!" Charlie tossed out in awe.

"Wow is right! Awake now?" Don teased.

"Absolutely!" Charlie answered back. Don was about to respond, but instead turned towards the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Morning guys!" Don greeted as his team meandered up the dirt road. The three agents were taking after his brother, sluggishly forcing their bodies to keep moving forward up the path until they reached Don and Charlie. They practically stumbled to a halt beside the lead agent and his brother.

"Morning Don! Morning Charlie!" David managed. The other two simply nodded in their direction, seconding Sinclair's words of greeting.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who needs coffee," Charlie commented and ran his palms down over the length of his face. The attempt to rub the remaining sleepiness away failed miserably.

"_O_hhhh_ coffee! _Such a heavenly word," Colby mumbled.

"If there's one thing we can count on the FBI for it's that there'll be coffee," Don replied, his own voice laced with desire for the comfort of a very large cup.

"Please take me to coffee!" Megan begged, tilting her head to the left where it landed on the edge of Colby's shoulder. Finding he made a good pillow she let her eyes slide closed.

"Granger, why are you swaying? Or is that me?" she asked after a beat.

"No. That's me. Aftereffects."

"Aftereffects?" Charlie inquired.

"I still feel like I'm in the car. Driving. Driving. Driving. Dri…"

"We got it!" Charlie, David, and Don called out.

"Well, it's the responsibility of the team leader to know what his team needs and my great leadership skills tell me this team needs coffee," Don stated.

"Yeah you're a real Einstein Don!" Charlie chuckled.

"Laugh it up there Chuck! Alright team somewhere up this path there is that glorious beverage we all seek. Let's get those feet moving!" Don ordered. Most of the command got lost in the laugh that came out of him simultaneously. But somehow it set them back in motion.

The FBI had pretty much taken over the little resort on the lake. The main lodge was set up on a slight hill, its porch facing out towards the water. The lawn to the left side of the building was decorated with well kept picnic tables and Adirondack wood chairs for lounging an afternoon away at. To the right of the lodge was a generous circular area for parking. Bureau owned sedans and SUVs filled this area to the brim, each a practical carbon copy of the next. The very back of the lot held the command post truck. The only civilian vehicles belonged to the employees of the resort, employees who no doubt had been checked out more than they ever cared to be. Those poor souls were all tucked away inside, preparing to feed all the agents that were now scattered around the porch, lawn, and parking lot. Some were checking equipment in the vehicles and others were gathered around maps with flashlights. Most of them though seemed to be headed inside in search of breakfast, fuel for the very long day ahead.

Finally arriving at the bottom of the porch steps Don's gaze scanned the jungle of faces, attempting to seek out the agent in charge he had contacted on the phone. Not seeing any strong candidates right off he approached a younger man, so clearly fresh and clean out of training that he probably still squeaked. The kid lifted his gaze when he heard the group coming towards him.

"Hi!" he offered in a quiet voice.

"Good morning. I'm Agent Eppes. LA office. You wouldn't happen to know who's running the show?"

"Right over there!" the young agent answered, using the antenna of his radio as a pointer. Don's gaze followed the line of sight off across the lawn and found there was only one possibility.

Don thought maybe he was being messed with. The individual that had been indicated didn't exactly have the look that usually came with such a responsibility. The man couldn't have been a day older than Don himself and sat cross legged on top of a picnic table, a gigantic carrot complete with its leafy green top grasped in his right hand and a blue glow stick extended out in front of him in the other. His eyes were closed, head tilted every so slightly to the sky. A tennis ball balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose. He was frozen in the pose, his posture strong and yet he was not tensed up at the same time. The stance unsettled Don slightly. Not to mention he couldn't even begin to fathom any normal explanation for what the hell this man was doing with a carrot, glow stick, and tennis ball. The only ideas that sprang to mind were images from a book he had seen of some very odd meditation positions. Or had it been performance art? How could this man be so calm, intense, and ridiculous looking in the same instant?

Don sighed, half relieved and half suspect. Relief floated in because the agent in charge was definitely not a paper pushing suit. Literally. Hell the man wasn't even wearing shoes at the present moment. He was clad in white athletic socks, faded jeans with a small tear across the right knee, and a black t-shirt that read _Think. Act. Think Again. _in bright blue print. A hat instantly reminiscent of the one worn by Indiana Jones set perched atop his head.

A pair of gray and blue day hikers, a hand held radio, a cell phone, and a badge sat on the bench to his left. The only physical part of the man himself that cried law enforcement was the weapon holstered on his left hip.

"Him?" Don asked, raising his eyebrows and turning to the younger man.

"Yep."

"You're sure?"

"Let me check," the other man offered and leaned right to peer around Don.

"Yep that's still him!" the kid chirped, straightening back up and nodding back at Don.

"Alright then." He conceded, but was remained unconvinced that this was the agent who had been all business on the phone. He trudged off across the lawn, straight for the picnic table that supposedly held the agent in charge. The remainder of the group followed, stifling their amusement as much as possible. A few feet from the table their approach was acknowledged. The agent tilted his head back to a normal level, causing the tennis ball to roll off his nose. It was snatched from the air and stuffed into his jeans pocket. Its owner was apparently unconcerned with just how that might look when he stood up.

"Don Eppes. LA office. We spoke on the phone," the agent offered, introducing himself.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Eppes. Neil Mackenzie," the other man replied and tipped his hat to the group. This revealed a second thing that spoke of his profession, medium brown hair that had been treated to the classic law enforcement buzz cut.

"Good to meet you Agent Mackenzie. Let me introduce my team. Agents Megan Reeves, David Sinclair, Colby Granger. And Dr. Charles Eppes."

"Doctor?"

"Doctorate in Mathematics. I'm a professor at CalSci."

"I'm sorry. Mathematics?"

"Yeah you know numbers, equations, algorithms. Math."

"Sure. _Math_. I might have taken that once. _I think_," the agent replied. He then tapped the tip of carrot in his hand against his temple just below the brim of his hat, seemingly in an attempt to recall.

"Perhaps in high school or college?" Charlie offered, finding it difficult to believe this man only thought he might have taken math. Mackenzie shifted the carrot from his head to the corner of his mouth and snapped off a bite. He gave it a thought filled chew and responded.

"My brother was better at math than me. I think he took most of the math. I took care of science and gym. Okay, he liked gym too but I kept winning the coin toss. Pardon me though. I must have missed a Bureau memo or something. A mathematician?" MacKenzie responded looking to Don, a desperately confused expression capturing his face.

"He consults for us. When we catch a case where his knowledge might help us out we bring him in."

"Interesting! I like it! I like it a lot! What letters he have clearance for?"

"I'm sorry. Letters?" Don asked.

"My bad. Agencies?"

"FBI and NSA."

"Hey! That's more than enough for me!" MacKenzie proclaimed. He promptly stuck the carrot in his mouth, clenched between his teeth, grabbed his boots, and tugged them on. Without even tying them he hopped off the picnic table. He slipped on the blue and yellow FBI windbreaker he had apparently been seated on top of. Then in practically one motion he stuffed the glow stick into his back jeans pocket to free his hands, clipped the cell phone and badge on to his belt, scooped up the walkie talkie, and snatched the carrot out of his mouth. With his right hand he dug into the jacket pocket and pulled out a green glow in the dark Yo-Yo.

"So tell me does every team down in your neck of the woods have its own mathematician?" he asked, gesturing with his left hand for the group to follow as he headed off towards the lodge. He nibbled on the carrot and practiced Yo-Yoing with his left as he walked.

"Only the great ones," Don jumped in with quickly, a soft grin on his face.

"And Professor Eppes, what do you figure is the total number of great teams?" MacKenzie inquired, glancing briefly at Charlie over his shoulder.

"I'm afraid my brother has me at a disadvantage I wasn't aware there were others in my field consulting on the level I do."

"There aren't, Charlie." David responded.

"I don't get it."

"Wait! Wait! I think this is a math question I might actually know the answer to!" Colby chimed in with.

"So what's the answer?" Charlie pleaded.

"One."

"He was referring to our team," Sinclair assisted with.

"My brother and pride are good buddies. Another man said it best. _In general, pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes._ John Ruskin." Charlie responded, a trace of teasing embedded in his voice. Agent MacKenzie offered up the defense.

"_Great work is done by people who are not afraid to be great._ And I haven't a clue who said it."

Don inhaled deeply, an attempt at remaining patient. There were only two options of how this agent had become a team lead and the field agent in charge of the search for Ian Edgerton and in turn Troy Grafton. Don had been surprised that he even made it from the picnic table to the porch of the lodge without tripping over his own untied shoelaces.

Either this man was completely nuts and his bosses were just too afraid to let him go for fear of what he might do or he was just quirky and damn good at his job. Don was hoping for the quirky option, but wasn't willing to bet hard earned cash on it.

"Everyone this is Agent Parker. The latest edition to my regular team. And the only one of them remaining here at command with me. If I'm not available talk to him!" MacKenzie announced as they arrived back to the agent that Don had spoken to a few moments earlier.

"Hi again everyone. Please feel free to call me Lee."

"You all have met?" MacKenzie questioned.

"I guess you could say that," Don answered.

"Excellent!"

MacKenzie slung an arm around the younger agents shoulder, pulled him in close, and whispered in his ear. Parker nodded positively in reply.

"So when did you guys roll in at?" Agent MacKenzie asked, releasing Parker, and giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning his attention to the group.

"About two this morning. Drove straight through."

"Been there. Done that. I feel your pain."

"What shape we in?" Don prompted.

"Well, we have divided up into groups, covering all directions. Command posts at each corner of the grid. From what you told me over the phone about working fugitive recovery and heading your own office I figured you'd be good to head up the northeastern quadrant. That work for you?"

"Absolutely. Just get us up to speed and we'll head out."

"I sent a few agents up there in anticipation of your arrival. I was just about to do a group briefing. So grab a table, kick back, and chow down!" he stated and headed off up the porch steps.

"I just love these big breakfasts with the family!" he commented before disappearing into the lodge. The remainder of the group casually headed in the same direction.

"I have to confess something Agent Parker. Agent MacKenzie is a bit different in person than on the phone," Don threw out quietly as they made their way through the doorway.

"Mackenzie, he's…he's...how should I put this? Non traditional. Yeah I'm going with that. And please call me Lee. I haven't quite gotten used to the Agent part yet."

"How very PC of you, Lee. Afraid he might break your kneecaps if he found out you chose another less neutral wording?" David inquired.

"Kneecaps no. No! No! He'd never do that. Mackenzie would choose more careful than that. He's very strategic. He'd probably go for the fingers. The fingers of my non dominant weapon hand."

"Why fingers over kneecaps?" Charlie jumped in with as the group settled in at a large table near a window.

"I can still run. I can still shoot. I can still have my team's back. But I would have learned my lesson."

"I don't doubt that," the younger Eppes replied.

"Well, everybody this place has great food so think about what you might like. You have a bit of a drive ahead of you and I'll be back in a minute," Parker stated and headed off through the maze off tables.

"Is it me or is this MacKenzie guy kind of, well, nuts?" Colby asked once Parker was out of earshot.

"He does seem to march to the beat of a different drummer, doesn't he?" Reeves responded.

"What's your take Megan?" Don encouraged her.

"Well, considering I only met him five minutes ago. Not much."

"Just give us what you've got then!" Don snapped.

"Cranky. Cranky. Alright. Well, he was wearing his gun on the left so either he's a leftie or for some reason his right hand isn't as dominant for firing a weapon. If he's left handed he's probably very right brained. A holistic thinker. The left side of the brain processes information in a linear manner. It processes from part to whole. It takes pieces, lines them up, and arranges them in a logical order, then it draws conclusions. But the right brain processes from whole to parts, holistically. It starts with the answer. It sees the big picture first, not the details. If that's the case then Mackenzie may have been an excellent choice to head up this big of an operation."

"Yeah, but doesn't that conflict with procedures."

"Just because someone is right brained doesn't mean they can't follow processes. They just need to start with the larger picture and work backwards."

"My question is does that account for the carrot and the Yo-Yo?" David joked which elicited a laugh from the group.

"Well, I'm thinking that there's another mental aspect responsibly for that," Megan responded after.

"Yeah like he's got a few screws loose," Don commented just at the precise moment Agent Parker appeared back at the table. He carried a tray with six coffee mugs and one glass of milk. A waiter accompanied him, coffee pot in hand. A tense moment followed, everyone realizing Parker had just overheard Don's statement. The younger agent seemingly shrugged it off after a beat.

"Coffee all around?"

"Yes, please!" a chorus of eager voices replied. Coffees were poured and rapidly emptied. A second round was eagerly scooped up as well. Meals were eaten to Agent MacKenzie's narration of the prior day's developments. The man did the entire presentation standing on top of a table at the front of the room, still wearing his hat. The developments including searches of buildings that had been potential hide outs for Grafton, systematic searches along water and roadways, and new aerials photos of the terrain presented on an overhead.

The pictures had been taken not from a Bureau chopper but a civilian one. MacKenzie stated his opinion strongly about how his bosses insisted their own department helicopters be used. Agent MacKenzie said he felt the risks outweighed the benefits. Why risk letting the bad guy know where you are and what direction you're coming from? Apparently some, including agents present on the search, had disagreed stating that using marked choppers would be to Agent Edgerton's advantage if he was in trouble. Edgerton would know help was out looking for him and if possible to get somewhere he could be quickly recovered.

MacKenzie stated he understood the perspective but that the answer was no. There would be no marked choppers. He also commented that Edgerton would understand that. This was one of the few things Don had agreed with during the briefing.

As the presentation wound down one by one each of the team members finished up their meals, cleaning ever last bit from their plates knowing it might be the last real meal they'd have for a while. Sitting back in their chairs they absorbed MacKenzie's ending comments.

"There are only two things I want to hear before that sun sets today. I want to hear. The first is, Sir, we found Agent Edgerton alive. And the second, Sir, we have Troy Grafton in custody. If you don't have one of those two things to say, don't bother coming to see me. Half hour people! Then all I expect to hear is your chatter over this radio in my hand. Chatter of telling me I'll be seeing the faces of Edgerton and Grafton shortly. Be smart. Be careful. Have each other's backs. Like the t-shirt says. Think. Act. Think Again!"

There was a breathless moment of silence, MacKenzie standing on top of the table, arms crossed over his chest, and a rather menacing look on his face. And as quickly as the man had clicked into hard assed boss he slipped right back out again when his cell phone jumped to life, belting out the theme from _Raiders of the Lost Ark_.

"Now if you'll excuse me I appear to be ringing!" MacKenzie stated. He grabbed his phone from his belt, answered it, and jumped down from the table. He made a beeline across the room while talking into the phone. As he breezed by the table where Don and his team sat Parker held out the glass of milk to him. MacKenzie mouthed the word _thanks_ as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone and disappeared out of the lodge.

"He doesn't drink coffee," Parker responded to the collection of odd looks he received from the rest of the table. But the answer only served to make the looks even stranger.

"This is completely absurd!" Don stated, tossing his napkin on to his empty plate and standing.

"Don, what's going on?"

"This is just great we have freaking Indiana Jones heading up this search. I can't believe that they're treating this like some sort of joke! There's a missing agent out there. There's a god damn fugitive running around free. And they put some nut case who doesn't even tie his shoes in charge! Hell no!" Don retorted. The only one who appeared shocked by the words was Lee Parker. The expression on the young man's face was near sadness. He managed to gather up his voice to reply though.

"Agent Eppes, sir, if you don't mind me saying so, you haven't given him much of a chance yet. Agent MacKenzie might follow the beat of a different drummer, but once you see him in action you'll understand."

"What is there to understand, Agent Parker? Cuz I think I've seen about enough!"

"You'll understand that Agent MacKenzie might not always tie his shoes, but he's always the first one in, the last one out, and pours every ounce of his heart and head into this job. Hell he'd climb every one of those mountains out there _without his shoes_ if it meant we bring Agent Edgerton home and that scumbag Grafton to justice."

"Well, you pardon me Agent Parker if I don't join the Agent MacKenzie fan club! I'm not impressed so far!" Don shot back as he stormed off across the lodge.

----00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000----

"We already have maps Charlie. Why'd you go and buy all of those?" Don asked his brother as they exited out through the doorway of the little general store. Agent Parker had warned them that traveling northward this was the last opportunity to pick up any supplies they might need. Most everything had been provided by the Bureau, but there had been a vote for a gas up and snack stop.

"If I recall the last time I wrote on one of the FBI's maps you nearly took my head off. I need to be able to free write. And I'm kind of fond of my head right where it is."

"Your money I guess," Don grumbled.

"I realize you didn't get much sleep, but this is irritable even for you. What's up?"

"I'm sorry, buddy. It's that nut ball MacKenzie."

"He did seem to kind of get under your skin."

"It's not just that."

"Then what?"

"Before we left he pulled me aside. Tried to convince me to have you stay back at the command post with him. Said he was concerned about you in the field."

"I guess I can understand that. I don't exactly have all the training you guys have. I certainly am capable in many areas, but it sounds like he was just doing his job. Isn't he ultimately responsible for what happens out here if he's the agent in charge?"

"You're siding with him?"

"No. I can just see his point of view is all."

"Yeah. That's called siding with him."

"Don, that's not what I meant!" Charlie called out as Don kicked up the pace of his walk, leaving his brother in the dust.

"I don't get what Don's big problem is. Agent MacKenzie seemed nice enough," he commented to Megan who had trailed them on their back towards the cars.

"When it comes to you Don has tunnel vision. You could see the possibility that MacKenzie was doing his job and thinking ahead to potential outcomes of all this. All Don heard was another agent saying he could watch out for you better."

"Oh."

"Alright! Let's load up and head out!" Don called out as he climbed into the driver's seat of his SUV. With the number of agents working the search they hadn't been able to spare another Bureau SUV. Colby took up shotgun and Charlie climbed in the back where he could spread out and work. They had been provided copies of all the data and been further briefed by Agent Parker. Megan and David once again occupied the Bureau SUV. David had confessed to his traveling companion that he didn't mind. He suspected that other vehicle would be quite lively between the two brothers and Granger. Not to mention he had heard all about Colby's narration of Grafton's file. The idea of a more subdued relaxing ride had appealed to him. So he contently pulled out of the small gravel parking lot behind Don. And he had been right on target, a discussion of carrots, glow sticks, Indiana Jones hats, and Yo-Yos was already underway amongst the other group.

"I confess I kind of liked the hat!" Charlie commented from the backseat. He caught Don's growing grin in the rearview mirror.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"Come on bro!"

"I just got this image in my head of you in an Indiana Jones hat," he chuckled out.

"Now there's an image!" Colby tossed in.

"Maybe I can borrow it and wear it at my next conference," Charlie suggested which led all three to mentally concur up an image of Professor Eppes delivering a lecture on mathematical theory in an Indie hat. The only place that lead was to a whole lot of laughing. Once they had settled a bit Colby steered the conversation to another area of curiosity.

"I did a little poking around online before we left. And I think I may have also figured out what MacKenzie meant about _thinking_ that he might have taken some math."

"How's that?" Don inquired.

"Neil MacKenzie had a brother, an identical twin brother. Neil was older by two minutes. I found a picture and when they say identical they mean _identical_. I'm thinking their teachers couldn't tell them apart. They must have had some sort of system so they each took what they liked, posing as the other if necessary. Hell if they really wanted to pull something they just might have been able to make it seem there was only one of them."

"So the brother an agent too?" Charlie asked and leaned in closer to the front seats.

"A bit of tragedy there. The two were in a car accident when they were nineteen. Neil's brother, Nathan, didn't make it. Nathan was driving and that side of the car took the brunt of the impact."

"Wow! I can't even imagine what it must have been like to lose your twin brother at nineteen!" Charlie stated softly.

"Did it say what caused the accident?" Don added.

"They were from Montana. They got caught in a snow squall, white out conditions just _BHAM_ out of nowhere. They missed a curve, went off the road, over a steep embankment, rolled, and landed on the driver's side of the car. They were out in the middle of nowhere. Articles I found said that after coming to, finding his brother critically wounded, and realizing no one was going to find them by chance Neil managed to extract himself from the car. You guys notice the scar on the back of his neck?"

"Yep. Starting right above the shirt collar on the right side," Don answered, glancing over to the passenger seat.

"That's the one. Apparently goes half way down his back. He did that on a piece of metal crawling out of what was left of the car. He then walked fifteen miles in the middle of December before someone on a snowmobile came across him. Came pretty damn close to dying of hypothermia and blood loss. By the time help got to the car Nathan was gone."

"I can't even imagine having to make that decision. Staying with your wounded brother, but risking no one finding you or having to walk away in search of help, leaving your brother behind."

"And then in the end he dies anyway and you have to live with the fact your brother died alone," Colby stated, shifting his gaze out the window.

"What's this up ahead?" Don's voice broke through the reflective quiet with.

"Damn road's flooded. Parker mentioned it had been raining heavily for a couple days up here," Colby responded

"No telling how deep that is. And there's no way around. Better not risk it. Charlie, see if there's an alternative route on the map," Don offered up as steered the SUV into a turn back in the direction they had come from. There was enough of a gap between the two vehicles that David and Megan had plenty of time to see what they were doing and turn around themselves. Colby opened his cell and rang Megan.

"What's up Colby," she answered with.

"Road's flooded. Looks pretty deep. We're looking for an alternative."

"There was a logging road about two miles back on the left. Did you guys see that?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Probably our best bet," Colby responded and closed the phone.

"There was that logging road back a couple miles we were thinking of trying that."

"There's no road back there," Charlie commented, pouring over the map.

"I saw it. It's got to be there," Don said. He had straightened out the vehicle and they fell in behind the other SUV.

"I believe you, but it's not on this map."

A few minutes later they were leaving the main road onto a dirt one. They would check it out and if not an option seek suggestions from command who had access to computers to locate a new route. The terrain was well used fortunately so the ride had a few bumps but nothing unbearable. Don did leave a bit of distance between the two vehicles though.

"This might work," Colby stated, surprised the road was as usable as it was.

"Hopefully or we'll have some serious back tracking to do," Don replied as he guided the steering wheel to the side to make a fairly sharp corner. Despite the gap he had left between his front bumper and the one on the Bureau SUV that David was driving the blind curve didn't give them a fair chance.

Don only had a split second of the image on the other side of the bend in the road, the huge tree down across the road and the other SUV plowed into it. The rear end of the other vehicle was so close the only thing he had time to do was jerk the wheel to the left to avoid hitting it. The goal was to go off to the side of the road and stop, but it didn't come to be.

The brush had grown up so wild and tall that it was deceptive. As the wheels of Don's SUV left the road all three passengers knew they were in trouble. Underneath the thick brush was a steep embankment not the solid flat ground they had anticipated. The momentum of the swerve to the left tugged the SUV into a tilt downward. In the next breath they were in a roll. Every object in the interior not secured down abruptly became airborne, a potential danger. The stomach clenching crunch of metal and the sharp shattering of glass washed out all other sound inside the cab of the SUV until the impact with the bottom of the hill arrived.

_To Be Continued…_

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**Footnote: I realize I spent a good amount of time on Agent Mackenzie, but there's a reason for that. This isn't the last we've seen of him! And I may even reward you for your patience by posting another chapter sooner than normal. That one is shorter I promise.**

"_Great work is done by people who are not afraid to be great." Fernando Flores_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Kettle's Knot

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure.

Note: Thanks for the reviews!!!

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_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 4**_

Each beat of Don's heart exploded inside his eardrums, drowning out any other sound that might have existed around him. His lungs ached for air. He needed to inhale, but the connection between his brain and his body had frayed and become faulty.

_Take a breath. Take a breath. Take a breath. _

He mentally bore down on the words, commanding his body to obey. Finally oxygen poured throughout him. The abruptness of its arrival made him think that it had come more as a gasp than a breath. Unable to hear anything beyond his own heart though, he couldn't be certain of which it had been. That made him wonder just how long it had been since he had taken his last breath. That was rather concerning. He only dismissed the thought because with a replenished air supply the sensations of his own body were trickling back to him. And his heartbeat was beginning to quiet to a mild pulse inside his ears. At first it seemed there were no other sounds to be heard, but a few breaths later voices started dancing around the pulsing sound of his heart.

"Don? Don!"

"He's moving around so I think he's coming around," David's voice stated to someone apparently nearby.

"Don! Don! You with us?" David's voice prodded him.

"Mmmhmm. Here," Don's voice replied all on its own.

"Good to hear. Any broken bones? Anything that needs immediate attention?"

"Not my best day. But nothin' broken."

"Good. Good. Just stay there and rest."

"Okay, sounds good," Don mumbled, thankfully that it seemed alright to leave his eyes closed a little longer. His foggy mind had convinced him that David seemed to have things handled. Whatever those things were.

"Colby! Colby! I need you to wake up! _Colby!_" Sinclair's voice demanded. It was quickly joined by Megan's.

"Colby! Wake up!"

The intensity in both of their voices was enough to help Don pry his heavy eyelids open. The world swayed briefly, but finally settled neatly into place. The SUV was rested on its side. Don found himself lying with his back partially against the seat and partially against what had been the driver's side window. In the space where the glass had been there was now ground. The view above him was across to the passenger seat. Colby was there, suspended from the seat by his seatbelt, and completely limp. His head lolled downward, unsupported, and Don could see the large gash that ran along his right temple. Blood streamed down his cheekbone and across his lips. Don studied him closely for a handful of seconds, noting the subtle rise and fall of his chest. At this reassurance Don started the slow arduous process of changing his position. The first thing to go was the seatbelt. Next he shifted in an attempt to get up on his knees, but that fell short when he placed his hands down and tried to push his body upward. Pain scorched through his left shoulder. His teeth instantly clenched down and he forced the cry of pain back down. It escaped him as a light grunt.

"Be careful there Don! There's glass everywhere," David advised. Don shifted his gaze from Colby to the left. David was squatted down a few feet away, just on the other side of the broken windshield. Megan was in the same position at his side.

"What the hell happened?" Don asked, finally managing to get on his knees without utilizing his left shoulder too much.

"There was a tree down across the road. I came around the corner. Didn't have enough time to stop. Plowed right smack into it. I was just getting out my cell to call you. To tell you to stop but you came around the corner right then and swerved to avoid ramming into us. You went over an embankment."

David's words brought the events swirling back to him and his sluggish mind clicked back into gear. _Charlie had been with them._ Now on his hands and knees Don twisted towards the backseat.

"Charlie!" he called out.

"Over here Don," a quiet familiar voice replied. Following the sound Don peered over the side of the seat. Charlie was seated there with his back to the roof of the SUV. He had the fingertips of his right hand pinched against the bridge of his nose and his head was tilted towards his chest.

"You alright?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. David and I already had this discussion. You okay?"

"What's wrong with your head?"

"I'm alright Don. I just need a minute. How are you?"

"Look at me Charlie! You in pain?" Don asked, his voice strained with concern. He would have liked to climb into the back seat and check his brother out himself but that would mean needing to disturb Granger's present awkward position. Moving him was not the best idea. If they could draw him back to consciousness Colby would be able to assess whether there had been any serious damage to his neck, head, or spine. Then they could work to free him.

"You sure?"

"I'm alright Don. I promise. Very very sore. But intact. However, I think I have been attacked by every inanimate object in this car," Charlie replied and finally looked up at Don.

"Aw! Buddy!" Don whispered out. His brother had been correct. His face was a collection of scrapes, cuts, and bruises. His nose was bleeding and the right side of his bottom lip was already swelling. It certainly looked like every object that had not been secured down had found its way to him as it tumbled around the interior of the car.

"Never thought my own laptop would turn on me like that," Charlie forced out, a slight tremor to his voice. Don was about to respond to Charlie's attempt to lighten the moment with a joke, but his attention was drawn from his brother by the low groan that escaped Colby.

"Colby, man, you with us finally?" David called out to him. The reply was an extended grunt and attempt by Granger to regain coordination between his mind and arms. The clumsy movement elicited a hiss of discomfort from the man. Don looked between Colby and Charlie, torn between the two. Charlie waved his hand at Don, shooing Don's attention off him and on to his team member. Don tugged his gaze away from his brother and up towards Colby.

"Alright Colby just take it easy. Don't move around too much until we make sure nothing major's going on with you," he instructed.

"Okay, just let me take this seatbelt off. It's choking me," Granger replied softly as his right hand fumbled to find the button to release the belt.

"No! Don't touch the seatbelt!" Both David and Don cried out.

"Alright. Alright. But you don't have to yell. Why not the seatbelt?" the agent mumbled back. Eyes closed and disoriented he hadn't quite realized yet that the reason the belt was uncomfortable was that it was just about the only thing keeping him in place. If he released the belt without assistance Don Eppes would experience Colby Granger up close and personal, right smack on top of him.

"We had a bit of a car accident. The car's on its side. Let's just say you're not on the side that's on solid ground."

"Oh, well, that would explain why all the blood has rushed to my head and hurts like there's no tomorrow."

"Speaking of that. Anything else hurt? Neck? Back? Legs?" Don asked. Colby thought about this for a few heartbeats and replied.

"I think I'm going to be sore for the next decade, but there's nothing that out of whack."

"Good to hear. Good to hear. Now we just have to get you vertical."

"I'd appreciate that!" Colby announced.

"I bet, huh? Let's get you upright!" Don answered. A few moments later and with a little assistance from Charlie, Granger was free and vertical again. All three managed to climb out of the vehicle under their own power. And all five had stood on the hill staring at the wrecked SUV for a long time, reflective of just how lucky they had been to walk away. Eventually they had torn themselves from their own thoughts and set to work.

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Don's gaze scanned the scene, surveying the human damage. Charlie sat beside him on the log, ice pack pressed to the left side of his face. Megan stood leaned against the side of the Bureau SUV. She had her own pack held wrapped around her right wrist. Instinctively, she had put out her hand to brace herself against the dash when they had plowed into the tree and had sprained her wrist quite badly.

Colby was seated sideways in the backseat of the vehicle, legs outside the car and head in his hands. Megan had helped clean the blood away from his face and a bandage was now taped in place on his temple just below the hairline. Don suspected the world was still in motion for Granger even though he was stationary. David seemed to have faired the best although Don suspected his chest was a bit sore. Every once and a while his hand would gravitate to his chest, stay there for a second, and retreat. Don hoped it was nothing more than the bruising that came from being jerked forward and abruptly stopped by a seatbelt.

"That's about it!" David called out, approaching Don and Charlie. David, Charlie and Don had collected most everything from Don's SUV at the bottom of the hill that needed to be immediately recovered. Maps, water bottles, snacks, jackets, Charlie's data, the laptop, a copy of Grafton's file, ammunition, and assorted other items. It all sat in backpacks at the side of the road, awaiting transport. One rifle had come through the wreck undamaged and lay on the ground beside the three packs. Despite many attempts the Bureau SUV wasn't starting. A few times it had sounded hopeful, but the engine simply wouldn't turn all the way over.

"What's the plan?" Sinclair asked.

"Still no cell signal," Don commented, checking his phone.

"I've tried the radios several times. I'm just getting either a lot of static or dead air in reply. Not sure if anyone is hearing me," the other agent responded. Don sighed, glaring at the broken antenna on the SUV. A tree branch had made it just another casualty in the unfortunate string of events.

"We'll have to hike back to that spot couple miles back where we got a cell signal," Don proposed.

"Sounds like our best bet. What I want to know is which one of us broke the mirror that landed us with all this bad luck?" David teased.

"Tell me about it!" Don replied.

"Don't look at me. I plead innocent! I'm more of a chalk board kind of guy," Charlie jumped in with and managed a smile.

"My money's on Granger," David offered. Both Eppes responded with a chuckle.

"How's he doing anyway?" Don inquired of David.

"Little lightheaded. A bit shaky. Seems alright otherwise. Megan's kind of, well, hovering close by in case." To this Don rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, massaging at the ever tightening knot there. He studied Colby for a moment, trying to determine if it might be best to leave Reeves with him while the rest of them hiked back up the road in search of a cell signal. Normally he would try to keep everyone together but it could be good to leave someone with the SUV.

Additionally, they would only need to carry one backpack instead of having to lug everything with them just in case. Don finally settled upon that strategy and slowly stood up from his seat on the log. His left shoulder still ached, but he was doing his best not draw attention to it so he denied the intense temptation to grip onto it with his other hand. He moved over to the pile of stuff on the side of the road and located one of the packs with water bottles and a map. Carefully he managed to slip it on without much jarring to his arm. Scooping up the rifle he walked over to Megan and Colby at the car. After waving them over, David and Charlie joined them and Colby finally lifted his head from his palms. His skin tone was slightly pale but he seemed alert.

"Alright. This is what we're going to do. Colby and Megan will stay with here. Keep trying the radio and see about getting the car started. Charlie, David, and I are going to walk back up the road to see if we can find the cell window again," Don explained. Weary nods of the head from the remainder group confirmed the plan.

"You guys ready to head out?" Don asked, turning to David and his brother.

"All set!" Charlie replied, slinging the strap of campus carryall over his shoulder.

"I'm just gonna grab my jacket. Clouds rolling in off to the west there," David stated. This drew everyone's gaze to the sky, noting that there was a bank of clouds creeping up to overtake the sun.

"David, grab me some ammo for this, would ya?" Don called over to Sinclair who had moved to the remaining backpacks to put on his coat.

"Here ya go!" the agent stated, returning and offering an entire box to Don. Taking a few steps clear of the group he loaded the weapon and stuffed the box in his jacket pocket. Another thing they had been briefed on was the wildlife of the area and Don wasn't willing to have an unprepared encounter with a very large bear on his way to make an emergency cell phone call. They had their handguns, but somehow the rifle made him feel more secure when it came to wild animals. He had just locked the rifle closed when he once again found his heart pounding in his ears. Just on the other side of his own heartbeats he could make out the sound of a gunshot resonating in the air around his body.

"Down! Down! Everybody down!" he cried and dove across the few feet of open air between him and the side of the SUV. All the others except Colby were already crouched down in the space protected by the vehicle and the down tree. Granger had sprung from slow motion straight into fast forward, throwing his upper body over the backseat of the Bureau SUV and grabbing the two rifles there and several boxes of ammo. A breath later he was squatted down behind the tree with his teammates, passing along one of the rifles to David.

They waited and listened.

Another single shot rang out, closer this time. Peering through the branches of the tree Don tried to get a visual on the shooter. He just barely caught the movement of multiple figures beyond edge of the woods down the road.

"Multiple shooters. Headed this way!" he informed the others just as a burst of gunfire filled the air. This time all four agents returned fire back. Then it was silent for a few heartbeats and David went for the radio on the front seat of the SUV.

"This is Unit Four to command!" he called into it and then released the button. Only dead air came back.

"This is Unit Four to command. We're taking fire. Our location is four miles northeast of Traveler's Pass. Repeat we are under fire! Requesting back up! Does anyone copy?" David rattled off and let up on the button once again. This time it almost seemed like there was life on the other end. Short bursts of static floated back as if someone was attempting to respond but the words just weren't carrying through.

"We need to get out of this open area! Everyone down over the embankment!" Don directed as more shots arrived. Each round was gaining ground on them. The slope of the hill would offer temporary cover and placed the Bureau SUV, the down tree, and a section of road between them and the gunmen.

"Take cover! Go! Go! Go!" Don prompted and they were all in motion away from the tree. It ignited another round of shots in their direction. The opposite side of the SUV received a shower of bullets. Staying low the group returned fire as they ran. It was enough to cover them until they reached the edge of the embankment. The group scrambled down the slope and hit the ground. Sinclair was the final member over, having enough forethought to toss one then the other back pack over the hill as he went. He then landed heavily at his partner's side. The gunfire trickled away to quiet and a brief reprieve settled in.

"Bad thought just occurred to me," Colby commented from his position between Don and David.

'What's that?" Don questioned, reloading his handgun. The rifle lay in the dirt at his side.

"What if we're not the only ones out here searching for Grafton? What if he has his own people coming for him?" Colby answered.

"You're right I'm not crazy about that thought. But I think you might be on target."

"Gee I'm so excited. Grafton has back up and we don't even know if anyone heard our radio transmission. We could be on our own out here until someone realizes we're past due at the command post," Megan piped in with.

"And they're blocking the one direction we know we can get a cell signal in," David commented and took a quick peek over the rise to see if there was a visual on the shooters. The gunmen were still not in clear view.

"Doesn't seem quite fair does it?" Colby tossed back.

"What I don't get is how they happened to be right here. At the place we go off the road. Right when we are here. What are the odds of that?" Megan pondered aloud.

"Not good," Charlie tossed in. His brother's voice followed behind.

"So either they were here first and we stumbled upon them. They've been watching us the whole time we've been here. Or they were moving our way and came upon us."

"Another bad thought," Colby chimed in with.

"I really wish you'd stop that, man. It's kind of bringing me down," David replied, glancing Colby's way.

"I'll do my best to think happy thoughts."

"I'd appreciate that!"

"I was thinking what if they have enough men that they set up guard posts. To hold us off until they can retrieve Grafton. Grafton's pretty high up the chain. He just might have enough power that he'd be worth the effort to protect."

"In other words they knew he was coming this way."

"Bingo!" Colby shot back. Turning his gaze from Granger to his brother Charlie jumped in.

"Didn't you tell me once that all Bureau vehicles have GPS locators? And I already know our cells have those too."

"True. But until someone realizes we're missing it doesn't help us a bit because no one will be looking at them," Don replied and took a quick check over the edge of the embankment. There hadn't been any more gunfire for a long string of moments and it meant they no longer had an auditory fix on the shooters' location.

"So we just have to hang on until then, right?" his brother inquired, hopeful.

"Yeah. Problem is that we can't stay here, Charlie. We have to move. There's no telling yet how many they are, what kind of weaponry they have. We're sitting ducks if we stay here. We need to either keep moving or find a location where we have the advantage," Don explained and blew out a breath before he continued.

"Everybody stay low. Move as fast as you can! Get to the tree line. On the count of three we go!" Don instructed. In preparation David and Megan each took a back pack and put them on. There would be no telling how long until before they'd be able to return to the vehicles, if at all. Better to take everything they could. Don holstered his handgun on his right hip and then tugged up the cuff of his pant leg. He slipped his back up weapon from its place on his ankle and held it out to Charlie.

"Just in case," he whispered to his brother. The other man nodded understandingly and accepted the gun.

"Ready everybody?"

"Ready as we'll ever be!" the group chorused back to him. There was a collective deep inhale and exhale followed by Don's urgent instruction.

"One! Two! Three!"

"Move! Move! Move!"

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_Pop. Pop. Pop. _

_Crack. Crack. Crack._

_Gunfire._

The sound was very distant, but too familiar to be mistaken. Ian Edgerton drifted his eyelids closed and let the sound saturate into him. A round of automatic rifle fire arrived first and then handguns in reply. A beat of silence. Followed by a burst of both intertwined. The noise was so faint it just barely existed on the edge of perceivable sound. Miles away, somewhere down below in the foothills. The noise ricocheted off the rugged terrain and floated lightly on the breeze to his ears.

The only other sound was his labored breathing. His body begged to stay in his hideout a little longer, but his mind knew he would have to push on.

He could only fool Troy Grafton into thinking he was more seriously wounded than he truly was for so long. A backpack with dried blood all over it was fairly convincing, but he knew enough about Grafton that he wouldn't assume that his shot had been a kill shot without actually seeing a body. But it would buy time and hopefully make the other man comfortable in thinking he had the upper hand. And once he allowed himself that his guard would drop down a fraction quite quickly. Especially if Grafton believed that all of the dried blood covering that knapsack was the agent's and not partly the agent's and partly that of a dead animal found in the woods.

Giving up the pack had been a tough decision, but the opportunity it presented was too tempting to deny. The cell had been the only thing he debated over. On one hand, there wasn't a signal to be had for miles and miles. He had been unable to make contact with his back up for a long stream of days. He'd lost track of how many. There would be hell to pay for separating from them. But he had risked losing the trail if he had stopped to team back up.

On the other hand, there was a GPS locator in the cell. Ultimately, he had decided that by the time the GPS locator came into play the whole thing would have come to an end, one way or another. Either it'd be too late for Grafton or for himself. Maybe both. This somehow had gone beyond just a regular tracking and become something greater. So he had tossed the phone into the front pouch of the bag, adding to the appearance that the pack had not been willing left behind.

He had taken all the ammo from it which he was sure his adversary would take note of. There were two options there. Either Grafton would believe Edgerton had run out or that he carried what remained on his person. As it happened if Troy Grafton thought the Fed was short on ammo he'd be dead wrong. Edgerton had learned long ago to always stow away a spare smaller pack within the larger one. That knapsack was now lighter than the first, but filled with the ammunition that could mean his survival over Grafton's.

Everything else in the pack was a luxury. He could live off the land, find enough food and water until this was done. And then when it was over, Grafton in shackles and headed for prison, he was going to stop at the first steakhouse he came to, sit down, and have himself a real meal. Then, of course, he would have the sheer pleasure of dealing with his very irate superiors, but they would have to wait until he was done with his steak.

_Just enough time to get the advantage. Just enough to have him in my sights. _

Ian Edgerton silently willed the thoughts to come true, repeating them over and over in his head as he wearily climbed to his feet, his wounded and aching left side protesting the entire way, and headed off through the woods.

_To Be Continued…_

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_Coming Up…_

More on Grafton. Just what exactly did he do to become, in the words of Agent Parker, a "scumbag"?

_And…_

What the heck is Kettle's Knot? Figuring that out could mean the difference between life or death for Don and his team!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: _Kettle's Knot_

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure

Note: Sorry for the gap between updates. One thing about having former police officers (as well as the current Sheriff) for instructors means you have to know your stuff. Been doing some intense studying!

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_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 5: Friction**_

Agent MacKenzie's green eyes focused on the topographical map hung on the command post wall in front of him. He had been standing there for some time, fingers interlaced together at the back of his head and legs spread slightly apart like he was about to be frisked. The rest of his body stood at attention, solid and tall at a tiny fraction shy of six feet one inch. For some reason the position helped him think and absorb information. He had tried viewing the maps on the computer monitor, but always ended up with paper copies plastering the walls of the Bureau's mobile command truck. The whispered chuckles about how old fashioned and oddly he worked didn't go unheard. But this way the bigger picture inevitably floated to the surface of his mind. And the bigger picture was just what he was searching for.

His gaze fixed onto the last signs of where Grafton and Edgerton had been. There was something off about Grafton's route. No backtracking. Grafton had been a city boy, for the most part born and bred for the street. And although a portion of those skills could translate to woods survival on some marginal level Troy Grafton wasn't making enough mistakes. The markings of the trail on the map showed no circling back. No jagged haphazard paths. In fact some of the roughest terrain had been skirted around particularly well. For someone not exactly nature boy the odds of that were unlikely. Most people who didn't know their way around wooded areas usually stumbled across the rugged terrain and then promptly backtracked in search of smoother trail. Granted the information they had available was sketchy at best and ended days before, but MacKenzie knew there should have been at least some hint that this city boy was out of his element. That within itself should have been enough to tip the scales in Agent Edgerton's favor. Tracker and marksman verses city boy on the run in the middle of nowhere. If physically able Edgerton should have dragged Grafton out of those woods a long time ago.

That left only two viable possibilities. First, Ian Edgerton had become a casualty of the search. Or, second, despite all intel on him Grafton knew what he was doing in this kind of terrain.

MacKenzie clicked his tongue, a physical manifestation that came when he concentrated on two unappealing options. He clicked out a steady rhythm against the roof of his mouth lightly until the truth presented itself to him.

Troy Grafton wasn't lost. He had not panicked and fled into the mountainous terrain in hopes of eluding or deterring authorities. If he had wanted to do that, based on his background, he would have headed for a large city and blended in. But he hadn't. He had made a beeline for this area. The curiosity that still floated in the air was why had Grafton headed there.

"City boy. My ass!" MacKenzie commented under his breath and plopped down in the chair in front of the computer.

"Excuse me?" Agent Nolan asked from his station, tending to the radio communications. His voice was tainted with the edge of having been insulted.

"Don't get your rope in a knot. I meant Grafton. I'm not so sure he's all bright lights and big city like he wants us to believe."

"Good. Cuz I'm from Houston. Born and raised. City through and through. Wouldn't live out in damn sticks for a million dollars."

"No Nolan. I would never question for a second your _cityness_. I'm no brain surgeon, but I'm not that stupid."

"You just want to retain the use of your hands so you can Yo-Yo."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Yo-Yoing."

"Yeah if you're a ten year old girl," Nolan responded inside a laugh.

"Again no brain surgeon here, but that sounded an awful lot like an insult. Sure that's the response you want to go with?" MacKenzie inquired, a smirk capturing his lips.

"No, sir, I would never intentionally insult you. What I meant was that …."

"_Nice_ recovery!" MacKenzie tossed back before Nolan could stumble out the remainder of his creative revision.

"Thank you, sir."

"What's our status?"

"I've had radio communication with all units except Unit One and Unit Four. I'm working on tracking their positions now."

MacKenzie ran down the list in his head. Unit One was the remainder of his regular team with a few temporary additions to make up for himself and Parker. He had put his second in command, Agent Keller, in charge of that unit and sent them to work the southeast quadrant of the grid.

Unit Four was the team from Los Angeles. Agent Eppes the team lead there. He had instantly gotten a good vibe from the group. There was a lot of skill there, intertwined with the undertones of a strongly bonded unit. That wasn't the case on every team. MacKenzie had witnessed that all too intimately on the first team he had been assigned to as a rookie straight out of Quantico. It hadn't been pretty, the agendas and lack of trust. The end had been even uglier, resulting in the deaths of two agents and the resignation of another. Of the entire team there were only two remaining agents still with the Bureau, MacKenzie himself and Agent Bill Simmons.

The disintegration of his first team had scarred him deeply. It had taken him a long time to cleanse his heart of the dark residue the experience had left him with. One of the few lingering effects was that whenever possible he studied and researched those he worked with. And the research showed that the LA team had had the rare moment here and there but in the end they were strongly bonded to one another. That was what secretly mattered to Neil MacKenzie. It had been the reason he had chosen to send Eppes and his team to run the northeast quadrant. Intuition was tugging at MacKenzie's gut that Grafton's path was within the eastern half of the grid and with his team in the south end and Eppes' team in the north they had their best shot at boxing him in and finding Edgerton.

At this thought the agent swiveled his chair to face the computer monitor and set his fingers to work on the keyboard. There was a missing link in the intel on Grafton, but what had been buried could be dug up again. He would pick apart Grafton's life history until he found it.

Because if what MacKenzie suspected was true then Agent Edgerton had been hunting something much more than he had bargained for. And all of his agents were out there unaware of what they were up against. And that was simply unacceptable.

"Oh and Nolan."

"Yep."

"In five minutes I expect some answers about why you can't get Units One and Four on the radio."

"I'm on it!"

"Wise choice!"

----000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000----

Charlie shifted his position, rested back against the roughness of the tree trunk. The motion was near squirming. He had to resist the urge to jump up and distance himself from the source of what had prompted his squirming. He swallowed down hard and ran his palms over his ears, a physical attempt to resist not bailing from the position Don had told him to stay in. He knew his brother was right. The group needed to stay tightly together, hunkered down in a small area protected on two sides by rock and a downed trees on another. He considered thinking about his ongoing math projects until the sound that was tormenting him stopped. But decided maybe it was best not to lose himself in that distraction at the moment. He needed to stay alert, mindful of his surroundings.

It was a normal reaction and he wasn't quite sure why the rest of the group wasn't fidgeting quite as much as he was in response to the noise. Maybe they had been around it more or something. Found coping mechanisms that reduced the physical reaction to having to listen to another person retching. Charlie finally braved a look. Both David and Colby had their backs to him. Colby on his knees in the dirt and David squatted down at his side. He turned his gaze away just as another round of dry heaving assaulted Colby.

Charlie estimated that there couldn't possibly have been anything left inside the man's stomach. This had been going on since they arrived at the spot a while before. Colby had lagged on the back end of the group as they had run and as soon as they had stopped the agent had clamped his hands down on his head. The splitting headache had been immediately followed by nausea. They had all exchanged looks of realization. There might have been more to Colby's head injury than it first appeared. At this point all they could do really was to hope it was only a concussion and the aftereffects would pass in time.

"Let's hope it's just a concussion," his brother's voice echoed his thoughts a few feet away. Megan and Don were off to the left on the opposite side of their little hiding place from Granger and Sinclair and engaged in a hushed conversation.

"I'm sure Colby would insist he's fine," Megan responded quietly, shaking her head at its absurdness.

"Well that's true," Don replied while reloading the clip to his handgun. He returned it to its home on his hip and began to survey the contents of the first backpack. He quickly made a mental inventory of resources they had there. Megan was at his side keeping watch over the top edge of the rocks. The woods held an eerie stillness, but there was no visible or audible sign of their ambushers.

"So what's the plan?" Charlie's voice chimed in asking. He had managed to steel himself against the negatives of the situation, shutting down his emotions regarding the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere with no help being shot at. If he just viewed it as a problem to be deciphered and solved maybe he could be of some use to Don.

"Well, right now our biggest obstacle is figuring out how many they are and what kind of arsenal they have. Any mathematical insight on that?"

"Perhaps. It's possible that I could use the amount, frequency, and angles of their fire in that last go around to give you some data on how many they have on their side and their supply of ammunition. I mean I don't have exact numbers but I can use estimates."

"Chuck, if you could do that it'd be a huge help."

"Hard to know how to beat the enemy if you don't know their vulnerability, right?" Charlie stated, eagerness to be helpful thick in his voice.

"Yeah. Something like that," Don responded then moved off towards David and Colby where the next backpack was located. Charlie watched him go and then tugged a pen and piece of scratch paper from his shirt pocket. Hanging his head he just stared at the blank paper, the pen hovering over its surface unmoving. He could sense Megan's gaze on him so without looking up he expressed the curiosity that was weighing heavily on him.

"Do you think they realize we're missing yet? That we never made it to the command post?" he asked quietly.

"I'm thinking that by now our non arrival is raising some heads."

"Don and that agent in charge didn't exactly hit it off," Charlie tossed out.

"Professionally, that won't make a difference. Personally, I think Don's attitude with Agent MacKenzie had more to do with Don than anyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"I was thinking some more about why Don was acting the way he was. I realized his attitude changed when we showed up. He was determined to go after Edgerton. But he didn't get touchy until we forced our way along for the ride. We weren't part of his plan."

"We wanted to help."

"He knows that. Intellectually. But if there is one thing Don is, it's independent," Megan offered.

"You have no idea how astronomically large an understatement that is." To this Megan let out a small laugh before clarifying what she was getting at with the statement.

"Don chose of his own accord to join the search for Edgerton. Sure they know each other and have worked together but there was already a massive search going on. Don knew that and took personal days to go join the search without telling any of his team what he was doing. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"He's independent _and_ a workaholic?" Charlie proposed.

"I think sometimes we forget what Don used to be part of," Megan stated softly and then left the rest for Charlie to fill in.

"Fugitive recovery," he responded in a whisper of realization.

"I think that maybe Don gave that up before he was really ready to let it go. He has his own team now and we work differently than a recovery unit does. Sure he had responsibilities, but I think for Don there was some freedom to it. Some wildness. He hasn't felt that in a long time."

"He missed it."

"I think so. I think maybe we crashed his party. His opportunity to experience what he felt working fugitive recovery one last time. On his own. We show up and he's slotted right back into the boss role. He's responsible for all of us."

"Not exactly what he was hoping for."

"Probably not!" Megan offered. A few beats passed while this new light on matters absorbed through all the layers of Charlie's mind. Once it settled a trickle of sadness made its way back up and surfaced as a frown.

"You okay?" Megan asked, placing a hand on his arm. The touch pulled him out of the sinking sensation.

"Yeah. Yeah. Just thinking about how we crashed Don's little adventure."

"He's stubborn, but he'll get over."

"Eventually!" Charlie added with a laugh.

"Point taken," Reeves stated firmly and continued, "So you're going to see if you can give us some data on what we're up against?"

"I don't have a ton of data, but it might be enough to paint a faint picture. Ya know I could take a peek at the maps too. Try to plot their movements."

"Anything you could give us would be helpful. Don't get too settled though. This is as good as any cover for the moment but I get the impression these guys aren't about to just give up and leave."

"That's rather disappointing to hear." To this a small chuckle escaped Megan's lips.

"I'm glad my disappointment is a source of entertainment for you," Charlie replied.

"It's just you sounded like Larry right then."

"There's a compliment in there somewhere."

"Most definitely!"

"Ah ha! That's what I thought! Caught ya!" he replied and grinned. Megan flashed her own back before moving off to join the others. Charlie's smile faded and he set to work. The blank page was quickly cramped with the math of their firefight back at the SUVs. If the shooters had been Grafton's people then the probability that more data would soon be forthcoming was extremely high. Among the myriad of offenses Grafton had committed, and there was a long laundry list of them, he seemed to have affection for one in particular. That was if what Colby had read from the file was on target. Troy Grafton loved gun running. That meant if these were Grafton's little helpers they were more than likely well armed. That was concerning, but was truly disconcerting to Charlie was what he had seen of the contents of their own backpacks. There had been a frighteningly short supply of ammunition in them. At this thought a flurry of equations arrived on the paper underneath his pen. He would need to give Don data on how to most beneficially ration what little they had.

Charlie only slowed momentarily to pull the maps he had collected from both the command post and the little store they had stopped at out of the backpack at his side. The data was going to be slim, but being shot at was incredible motivation to wring it out for all it was worth.

----000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000----

Troy Grafton spat out the pine needle he had been chewing on and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his denim shirt. He scooped up another needle and clenched it between his teeth. A refreshed intense pine taste moistened his dry lips. He leaned against the rock wall behind him, returning his right hand to its rightful position near the trigger of the rifle. His left lifted up the binoculars strung around his neck to his eyes. The river wound its way through the earth below him. From this perch he felt the world was within his sight. No one could come any higher up along the mountainside without him seeing them. Especially his shadow, that fed, that was chasing him. Once and for all he'd know the damage his bullet had inflicted. If he never showed he was either dead, dying, or a damn coward.

And in turn he himself was hidden from view by the natural pockets between fallen boulders. His people were working their way to him. He could feel their presence within reach. It had been a long journey and he was almost home.

A smile crept over Grafton's features as the last thought swirled inside his mind. What those chasing him didn't realize was to his own sweet advantage. About now the cops were probably scratching their heads pondering how such a city boy could have gotten so far out in the sticks without getting either caught or killed. Ironically being a trouble making street kid had been what had gifted him the ability. His knowledge of this particular area had meant his survival and freedom. The cops, if they were even looking for it, probably wouldn't find the link that had been made so far back in his lifetime. And even if they did it'd be too late and he would have slipped beyond their grasp already. If some of them had to die to make that happen then so be it. This was business and sometimes you had to get your hands dirty to get the job done.

_To Be Continued…_

----000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000----

Coming Up…

Ah! Been a gentle start, its time to pick up the pace!

Chapter 6: _Momentum_

A mathematician comes to some striking conclusions

An FBI team tries out a plan. (Lots of Don and the team)

A leader realizes he has missing agents, but the return of an old enemy might spell major trouble in finding them.

Chapter 7: _All Things Collide_

Battles won and battles lost.

And it's far from over yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Kettle's Knot

Title: _Kettle's Knot_

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure

Note: Thanks for hanging in there. The semester has finally ended though. Yippee! _Forensics _and _Arrest, Search, and Seizure_. in particular, were very time consuming, but fun. So I know I have neglected my writing. I hope these two new chapters help make up for it a bit.

New chapters are Chapter 6 Momentum and Chapter 7 Collision Course

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 6 Momentum**_

The sun had deserted them. Only an endless blanket of grayness remained. Don tore his gaze away from the sky above the treetops and returned to the task at hand. And an easy task it was not. He had a decision to make, the kind of agonizing decision that came with leadership. Blowing out a breath he looked across at the others. Their attentions were turned away from him and for that he was grateful. Lowering himself from a squatting position Don took a seat on the rock behind him and ran a palm over his hair.

The senior agent looked grimly down at the items that lay at his feet and every inch of his body tensed up. There were four people, not including himself, and only three bullet resistant vests. Originally there had been one for each of them, but it turned out two of them had been in the back end of the Bureau SUV.

The ones they were left with had been in Don's truck and packed up with everything else after the wreck. There had been no time to retrieve the other two. Don had discovered the missing vests while taking inventory of how much ammunition they had. He had kept it to himself, hoping to make the decision before his brother and his agents realized. It was unacceptable that anyone else but himself would be responsible for this choice. He and one other person would have to go without. Inhaling, he refocused on the positive. Who would receive the vests that they did have?

The first choice had been automatic and non negotiable. One would go to Charlie. That left his three agents and he would have to choose the one that would join him in being without the potentially live saving protection. He lifted his gaze just enough to peer over at his agents, who were huddled around his brother. Charlie was explaining something at a hushed level that Don couldn't quite hear. It was good though, it gave him a window of opportunity to think.

It was hard at that moment, but he studied each of his agents. David, Colby, or Megan? Colby's features still showed the strain of discomfort from his injuries. At least the nausea had settled somewhat for him. Uncharacteristically Granger had lagged behind when they had made a run for the cover of the woods. He definitely wasn't one hundred percent. On the other hand, this was a man who had survived Afghanistan. Less than a hundred percent he was still tough as they came. Would he even accept the vest if he knew someone else would be without? Well, none of them would Don supposed. He'd have to pull seniority and force it upon the two agents he did choose.

Next he looked to David. His features were set taunt with concentration as he absorbed the information Charlie was offering. David had a way of internalizing information and recovering it from his memory just when it was needed most. Somehow Don suspected that it would be easiest to make David take a vest, as long as Don presented it with unwavering command and logic. He might put up a fight initially, but he'd be the easiest of the three to overcome and convince. Weighed on the other end of Don's thinking came the rationale that Sinclair was also the least injured of the three and, therefore, the most agile and able to defend themselves.

On that thought Don's gaze fixed upon Megan. There was an odd mixture of confidence and worry etched in the way she nodded her head at the words Charlie spoke. The confidence and quick thinking served her well in situations like these. It could be a live saving asset. But she had injured the wrist of her weapon hand in the accident. Her aim and response time could have been affected. And that split second delay or degree off could mean a bullet in the chest.

Special Agent Eppes hung his head and scrubbed his palms over his face then rested his forehead on his clasped hands. And he sat there frozen, mentally sending out the wish through the air that he would give almost anything right then and there for those back at the command post to have realized they were missing and be out searching for them. His hopes had been already dashed once in that regard. What had drawn all of their gazes up into the sky had been the sound of a helicopter nearby. But it had come and gone very quickly. Probably just a routine sweep in the search for Grafton and Edgerton. More than likely it had departed far too rapidly to have spotted anything that would have tipped them off to his team's distress.

The thought of how ironic all this was streamed through Don's mind. In an instant the rescuers had become the lost.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Agent Parker took the papers from MacKenzie's hand and rotated them one hundred and eighty degrees. He then promptly placed them back in his team lead's grasp.

"Oh that's why I couldn't read them! I knew that didn't look right," MacKenzie commented, thankfully.

"Yeah, it was the papers. Couldn't possibly be the fact _you're_ upside down," Parker responded, sarcasm unveiled in his voice.

"What's wrong with upside down?" MacKenzie inquired. The true innocent confusion in the man's voice didn't go unnoticed by the younger agent. But Lee Parker didn't clarify his statement any. Just shrugged as if he couldn't produce a good answer. If it had been anyone beside Neil MacKenzie a million reasons would have begun to tumble from his mouth. Something perhaps along the lines of the observation that working while upside down wasn't something routinely encouraged by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Kind of like the way Yo-Yoing, paddle balling, or using crayons wasn't promoted at Quantico. All things Lee Parker had witnessed his boss participating in.

"Can you even read like that?" Lee inquired instead.

"Not way back when I was younger when I first started trying. Made me lightheaded. And very dizzy!"

"Dizzy and lightheaded? You?" To this the agent received an upside down glare in return.

"Sorry sir!" Parker offered with great apology and a small hint of fear. MacKenzie looked back at the printouts from Grafton's file.

"I knew it. I knew it was in here somewhere!" he announced triumphantly after a moment of reading. Buried in the intel on Troy Grafton had been two short lines that provided the key as to why the city boy had eluded them in the wilderness.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Ian Edgerton diligently worked his way through the cluster of unstable rocks underfoot. A piece of him longed to move faster but one bad misstep could mean a fractured ankle so he suppressed the urge and made slower but steady progress. He had been giving chase for most of this little expedition. But now Grafton had let his need for control, superiority, give him away. Grafton had headed straight upward from the river. He had begun traveling in a direction that led solely to a series of rock ledges above.

The agent had realized there were only two possibilities. Either Grafton was panicked and a complete idiot and started running towards the more treacherous terrain. Or he had done it to find a hidden perch where he could see what was coming at him. Since there was no evidence to support that the man was in a panic or stupid that left only the second option. His gut had chosen that option right up front, but a little intellectual analysis never hurt.

So here he was aborting following after Grafton in the shortest distance, a straight line. Now he was working his way around from the side, tucked away against the bottom of the ledges. Sticking close to the rock wall shielded him from Grafton's view on the overhangs above. The sky had become over cast and the dimness it brought added further insulation from detection. Hopefully he could catch Grafton from behind.

"Son of bitch had to choose to head up. Oh no! He couldn't have headed down stream or something," Edgerton grumbled under his breath as he propelled his body up the steep incline. Normally he wouldn't have cared one way or another, but the wound on his side where Troy Grafton's bullet had grazed and taken a chunk out of him was burning more and more with each passing hour. Ian knew the wound, despite his best efforts at cleansing it, was getting infected. This strategy had to work because the infection would consume him eventually. It would leave him unable to chase any longer or worse yet vulnerable to attack.

His gut was telling him that his backup was making up ground. There had been the exchange of gunfire he had heard earlier. He suspected one side of that had been federal agents. He wasn't quite sure of the other side yet and that bothered him a little.

Then there had been a helicopter that passed really low over the woods below where he stood now. He had gotten only a glance through the trees, but it had been a civilian chopper. The markings on it labeled it as a tourist outfit but Ian had watched it for a few moments and its pattern was more like that of an aerial search sweep than a sightseeing journey. Someone was using their head. Summer brought vacationers to the region and there were flight outfits littering the area that gave rides over this beautiful countryside. Those choppers were common in the area. They wouldn't seem out of place. Edgerton knew better though. The helicopters were not filled with civilian pilots and tourists. They were manned by federal agents. If he was lucky when this was over he could hitch a ride on one of them because the long trek back out of the woods was not something he was looking forward right at the moment. With that luxurious thought in his head he pushed on, closing the gap between himself and Troy Grafton.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Agent Seth Nolan sprang up from his chair inside the mobile command post and headed for the doorway. As soon as his feet hit the ground outside he visually scanned the parking lot and the area surrounding it. MacKenzie had instructed him to come find him the second he had anything regarding Units One and Four. The only indication of where he could be found had been the words, "I'll be hanging around close by." With that MacKenzie had departed the mobile command post, printouts from the Grafton file in hand. The agent's departure to work outside was not unusual.

The last time Nolan had gone in search of him MacKenzie had been elusive. It was only because Nolan had looked everywhere except up. MacKenzie had set up his own base on the roof of the lodge's porch, seated cross legged surrounded by all his work materials. Remembering this Nolan looked over to the lodge and up, but the spot was unoccupied. MacKenzie had stated he would be close by and if the agent had been one thing it was true to his word so Nolan spun around in the only direction he hadn't searched yet. And found what he was looking for. Seth shook his head and jogged across the lot towards the entryway to the parking lot from the road. Two large trees stood guard there, one on either side of the driveway, just where the driveway and the lot came together. And hanging upside down from lowest limb of the one on the right was Agent MacKenzie. Parker was next to him, only with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Even upside down MacKenzie saw him before he even closed half the distance. The lead agent's voice floated to him over the wind.

"Information you have. Tell me you will!' Mackenzie called out in a Yoda like rhythm.

"Yep! And it's not good. I got something I need you to come see!" Nolan called back. To this Mackenzie responded a bit too instinctively by moving his legs. Unfortunately, his legs hitched over the limb of the tree were the sole thing keeping him there. Gravity won out and the lead agent landed in a heap in the grass at Parker's feet. The papers that had been grasped in his hand floated down through the air and fanned out around him.

"Ow!"

_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Kettle's Knot

Title: _Kettle's Knot_

Author: Signs Of Sun

Type: Numb3rs Series

Genre: Action/Adventure

Note: Thanks for hanging in there. The semester has finally ended though. Yippee! _Forensics _and _Arrest, Search, and Seizure_. in particular, were very time consuming, but fun. So I know I have neglected my writing. I hope these two new chapters help make up for it a bit.

**Two new chapters are Chapter 6 Momentum and Chapter 7 Collision Course**

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

_**Kettle's Knot**_

_**Chapter 7 Collision Course**_

"So based on those calculations the…" Charlie stated, beginning to reveal his conclusions. The words stopped short when he happened to glance up and spot his brother seated on a rock on the opposite side of their hideout. The expression on Don's face was unsettling at best.

"Don? You okay?" he called over. Colby, Megan, and David's gazes shifted from Charlie over to Don just as the lead agent looked up. Despite his best efforts to conceal it there was strain etched in his features.

"What is it?" Megan encouraged. In response Don blew out a weighted breath and decided just to dig in and get it over with. He had mentally made his decision and it was time to vocalize it.

"Before any of you say anything. What I am about to say is final. Non negotiable. Is that understood?" A collection of curious looks met his words. Then slowly one by one his brother and his team replied with a quick agreeing word or nod of the head.

"Considering the circumstances I'm going to get right to it. There's five of us and only three vests. Looks like two of the vests were in the Bureau car. The ones we do have I'm assigning to Charlie, Colby, and Megan." Don's last word had scarcely left his lips when the others reacted.

"But Don?" They started to protest in unison, but Don held up his hand in front of him in a signal for them to stop.

"Please guys don't make this more difficult than it already was. My decision is final. Save your rebuttals. I'm not changing my mind."

"Don, what about you and David?" Charlie asked quietly, nervously.

"We'll manage. When we move in a group David and I can move in the protection of the line. I made this decision based on the circumstances right at this moment and the two of us are the least injured in terms of being able to react in a firefight. Megan your wrist is hurt. That could slow your reaction time. Colby clearly there's some lingering effects from that head injury. Charlie, you're a civilian and my brother. The decision is final. This is not the time or place to debate it." Don instructed then turned, scooping a bullet resistant vest. He turned back and attempted to hand it to Charlie.

"But Don I…" his brother's argument began as the vest was held out to him.

"Please! Charlie, do this for me. Put the vest on without argument," Don tossed back in a tone that was half big brother and half FBI agent in charge. Charlie looked sadly down at the vest for a second then raised his gaze one again.

"Okay," he responded softly without really meeting his brother's gaze. He shook off the button down shirt he had on and slipped on the vest over his t-shirt. Once it was clear that Charlie was going to co-operate Don scooped up the remaining two bullet resistant vests and held them out to Colby and Megan. His offer was met with reluctant expressions from the agents. Both Reeves and Granger were struggling to remain silent about their thoughts on the matter.

"Don't!" Don instructed, cutting short any words of argument from coming out of their mouths. His two agents threw each other a glance and then accepted the vests. Colby instantly attempted to hand it to David, but his partner put up his hand in a stop gesture to refuse it. Megan had locked eyes with Don who wasn't backing down. In the end she and Granger rather reluctantly strapped on the vests.

"Now let's hammer out a plan," Don stated to break the awkward silence that followed.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

"Alright! Give me what you've got!" MacKenzie called out as he rushed into the mobile command post. Nolan was already seated back at the monitors and Parker trailed after his team lead to where he was stationed.

"Just got these. Check it out!" Nolan responded, gesturing with a wave of the hand towards two of the computer monitors. Both MacKenzie and Parker diverted their gazes down to them. The photos were grainy at best, but it didn't matter the tale was told. The screen on the left displayed a picture of a black Bureau SUV plowed front end first into a downed tree. The monitor on the right after a few seconds of study revealed a second SUV at the bottom of an embankment, rested on its side. Both vehicles were clearly disabled. There was no visible hint of the agents that belonged to them.

"Unit Four?" MacKenzie inquired.

"Yeah. When I couldn't get them on the radio or cell I tracked the GPS in their vehicle. One of the choppers was doing a sweep in the area so I sent them on a fly by. No signs of Eppes and his team. There was no place to land. And even if there had been they weren't adequately equipped anyway," Nolan responded.

"Still no radio contact then?"

"No. It's hard to tell since the photo is from the air but looks like the portion of the SUV where the antenna would be is somewhere in the branches. Probably snapped the antenna right off. At the very least damaged it enough to render it useless. And the other vehicle was Eppes personal vehicle so no radio there."

"And there's not much of any cell signal in that area," MacKenzie commented, scooping up the green slinky that set on the table at his usual station. He took an end in both hands and began slinkying it back and forth. Parker and Nolan knew enough that this was MacKenzie pondering their circumstances so they focused on the computer monitor and waited. Their lead agent continued to shift the slinky from his left hand to his right hand and began to wander around the confines of the command post. The span of a few moments lapsed before he said anything and then it was only to pose a one word question.

"One?"

"Nothin'. No radio contact or traffic from them. The chopper is returning to base to refuel. Once it's back in the air I'll send them over."

"Keller knows better than to not respond to me, " Neil commented to no one in particular. To this Parker let out a soft snort. He clearly remembered that last time Keller, the second in charge on their team, had not radioed back promptly. Rafe Keller was a good agent, but occasionally he got so immersed in the task at hand that everything else faded into the background. MacKenzie was training it out of him, but it was proving to be slow going.

The team lead had taken to embarrassment reinforcement. Keller, although a good agent, was packed with bravado and macho strut. It wasn't that MacKenzie just got off on embarrassing him. It was that the team lead knew it was something that would get Keller's attention and wouldn't be forgotten. Every time Keller forgot to respond MacKenzie ensured there were memorable and embarrassing consequences for it.

Like that last time with the case that had oddly involved a bunch of cross dressing victims. After they had been rescued they were in need of changes of clothing while giving their statements. They had been rather insistent in their rejection of the generic jumpsuits they had been offered. So MacKenzie saw his opportunity to reinforce that Keller should have maintained radio contact during the rescue. He ordered Keller off to obtain the requested items that included pantyhose, bras, and dresses. The look on Keller's face had been straight out of Candid Camera. No. Agent Rafe Keller was not going to ever forget to radio in again. Which meant something was seriously wrong.

"What's this here?" Parker inquired pointed to a section of the screen that showed the Bureau SUV. Nolan responded by zooming in on what Parker had spotted. Despite the deteriorated quality what they saw was all too familiar to be mistaken. The passenger side of the vehicle had clearly taken fire.

"Get a second chopper fueled up. We'll drop a team as close as possible. Let me know when it's ready to take off. Get ground units headed that way!" MacKenzie instructed.

"On it!" Nolen answered, swiveling in his seat and scooping up the phone.

"Nice catch, kid!" the lead agent offered Parker before slipping his cell from his belt and making his own calls.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Don slipped his arms through the straps of the backpack and hoisted it up higher on his back. It wasn't exactly light but everything in it could be vital. Leaving it behind was not option at the moment. His left shoulder didn't agree though. Once the full weight of the pack tugged against his arms a groan escaped his lips. He had done well so far to cover the ache in his left shoulder, but the added pressure on the injury had shot a jolt of sharper pain across his shoulder and down his arm. And his vocalization of it had not gone unnoticed.

"Don? You alright?" Colby asked.

"I'm good. These packs aren't exactly filled with feathers ya know!" Don tossed back.

"When we get home should we all be chipping in to buy you a walker there, boss?" he replied with a smirk.

"Funny Granger! Keep that up and we'll just see how your next time off request goes huh?"

"Looks like you got it covered there no problem, boss man! I'm confident you could handle all three packs on your own," Colby chose to reply with.

"There's hope for that vacation request yet!" Don threw back.

"Good cuz I think I'm going to need one after this little adventure!" Colby announced.

"What this isn't the vacation you had in mind?" Don teased him before turning to Charlie. Granger just faked a laugh in reply.

"Okay, Charlie, give me what you got!" Don encouraged.

"Well, based on factors such as how long their bursts of shooting lasted, the angles of their fire, how their positions shifted, whether they closed in or changed angles before refiring the data we have shows that they are actually taking some care rationing their ammunition out. They have a supply but the buffer it provides before having to restock is not large enough that they can avoid taking that variable into account. Think about a grocery store. The storekeeper wants to have a buffer of goods, a portion of what he has in stock is kept in the back of the store. He takes from that supply when the shelves begin to empty a little. But he must also keep in mind how long it takes a new shipment to arrive. Therefore, he can gauge when he needs to place orders."

"So what you're saying is that these guys are not concerned with getting more ammo. They're just worrying about using what they have in a way that gets them to the next shipment so to speak," Don responded.

"Exactly."

"If these guys aren't worried about running out of ammo completely then…" Colby began.

"They know precisely where to get more and how long it takes to get there," David stated, completing his partner's thought for him. Megan chipped in her thoughts next.

"I'm not sure whether to cheer or curse. A limited supply of ammo on their side is to our advantage. On the other hand, their confidence in getting their hands on more makes me really nervous."

"Count me in on that last thought!" Granger commented.

"Me too. But Charlie's theory may explain why they haven't fired on us in while. Either they haven't located our position yet or they are holding off waiting for a better shot," David responded.

"Well, one thing's for sure they're not just going to forget about us. So, yeah, it's one or the other. And I doubt that they don't at least have a vague idea of our position," Colby added.

"Agreed. Which is why we're not just going to sit here and give them time to get that better shot," Don announced.

"You think we need to move to another hideout?" Charlie questioned.

"Nope. We're going to see if we can force them to use up that ammo supply a lot faster than they planned on," his brother answered back. Colby's response summed up in one word the team's opinion of their team lead's plan of action.

"Nice!"

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Out of the corner of his eye Neil MacKenzie caught a glimpse of someone standing at the bottom of the steps that led up into the mobile command post. He tore his focus away from the monitors and looked off the right. His gaze was met with a familiar face. The man there pointed with his index finger to the spot on the ground in front of himself, indicating that MacKenzie should join him outside.

"Excuse me for a minute!" Neil commented to Parker and Nolan before storming out of the truck. The man had changed positions, moving to stand off near the edge of the dirt lot. The lead agent wasted no time closing the gap.

"What the hell do you want?" MacKenzie snapped foregoing any pleasantries.

"Well, nice to see you again too SSA MacKenzie. Didn't your mother teach you any manners or even one ounce of respect for those in authority?"

To this MacKenzie let out a huff of air, a gesture akin to a light chuckle, and shook his head in disgust. Other than the real hard core scumbag criminals he didn't really loathe anyone. Anyone except this man, Bill Simmons. The older agent had been the second in charge on the first team MacKenzie had been assigned to straight out of Quantico. And as that team had fallen apart Simmons' true colors had been illuminated more and more intensely with each passing day. Pretty colors they were not. Possibly in there somewhere had been MacKenzie's own greenness. He was an open minded person and although his keen sense about what lay at a person's core had pegged the other man as someone only out for themselves he had given Simmons a chance as a team mate and more senior agent. Simmons had let the whole team down miserably. And the damage had not ended there. It had gone much further. So much deeper and more tragic. And Bill Simmons had not received the consequences due him.

"I'm here to relieve you."

"Trust me Simmons seeing you is a relief to no one."

"Higher ups requested that I head up the search now."

"First I haven't received any such instructions. Second even if I had there's not a snowball's chance in hell I'd leave these agents in your slimy hands."

"You don't have a say in the matter. I'm higher up in the chain of command than you. Not to mention the orders came from Strafer who is so far above you on the ladder you couldn't see him with a sniper scope."

"I know who Strafer is. And even though he's a paper pushing suit like you he at least has a shred of caring for the fate of the agents out here. Which means…"

"Which means he felt those agents, like Ian Edgerton for example, would be best served if I took command."

"You don't give a fuck about Edgerton. You were only trying to find him so you can get credit for Grafton's sorry ass."

"Disrespectful. And wrong. As usual!" Simmons commented, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's the only reason you're out here. You called in some favors due you. Or you had dirt on someone. Strafer perhaps or someone with influence over him. The same way you slithered up the ladder of command. You sit back and let us do the hard part. Then you get me pulled from the search so when Grafton is brought in _you_ get credit for it. That's the difference between you and me. I couldn't give a rat's ass about credit and you'd sell out your own mother for it. That's why I belong out here and you don't."

"You have too much of a conscience kid. Always have. Seems like you would have learned by now that it's the numbers you bring in, how big the criminal you take down, that matters. Why don't you go back to wrangling horses on that ranch in Montana, MacKenzie."

"You know what I have too much of? Insanity. Because I must have lost all of my marbles to waste my time standing here listening to your bullshit."

"There's only one thing you need to hear. _You're done._ I'm in charge now. You are welcome to join your team in the field. But you will follow every instruction I give you to the letter."

"Like hell!"

"They sent me in because clearly you haven't been effective. Grafton is still out there. Edgerton? You any closer to him?" the older agent accusingly snapped back.

"How the hell would you know? Only thing you were ever good at searching for was something to cover your own ass with!"

"Now that I think of it, it isn't just that you haven't been effective. You've set the search back. Can't even keep contact with your own team or any other one for that matter. Can you MacKenzie?"

"How do you know about that? We just barely discovered it."

"I'm sure Agent Eppes would agree about now. It's time for a change of command. Someone more effective at finding missing agents! Or should I get your own team's input. Why don't you get Keller on the radio so I can ask him? Oh wait! You can't because you lost him!" The avoidance of the question did not go over well with MacKenzie. He grabbed Simmons by the blazer, one lapel gripped tightly in each hand and pushed the older agent hard up against the tree behind him.

"Answer the question! How did you know about the other missing agents?" MacKenzie demanded. He was focused so intensely on the object of his hatred he didn't notice that Parker had exited the mobile command truck and was now within earshot.

"Get off of me you in bred hick!" Simmons growled at MacKenzie. To this MacKenzie let go of the older agent's suit jacket with his left hand. A breath later his left wrist and forearm were rested against Simmon's neck just underneath his chin. The pressure forced the man's head back so that the bark from the tree ground into his scalp.

"How-did-you-know?" MacKenzie asked again.

"Take your hands off of me right now, Agent MacKenzie! If you don't both you and your team will pay for it!" Simmons growled.

"You're pathetic! A complete waste of perfectly good oxygen!" MacKenzie spat out. He released his hold on the other agent with a shove added in for good measure. Simmons stumbled backwards for a second but managed to regain his footing. He adjusted his shirt collar and tie in silence, exchanging a razor edged glare with his former team mate. Once his clothing was back in order he spoke again.

"Get your gear and get out! You are dismissed from duty here. I don't want to catch you within a hundred miles of here. And if you interfere in any way with the search I will make sure they take your badge, your gun, and any hope of working in law enforcement ever again! Are we understood?"

"Go to hell!" Neil responded, turning his back and heading off back across the parking lot. He finally saw Parker a few feet away, but simply breezed past the junior agent without acknowledgement.

"Your badge MacKenzie! Remember that!" Simmons called after him.

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

It would be getting dark soon. The edges of the sky were already showing faint hints of the oncoming night. The longest day of the year had come and gone two months prior and the loss in daylight hours had become noticeable. Don's mind had registered this factor and it had magnified his sense of urgency to act. His strategy was that they could use the shadows now seeping into the forest to their advantage.

"So let me see if I have this straight. You want to encourage them to shoot at us?" Charlie inquired not quite comfortable with the idea.

"Shoot. Yes. At us? Preferably not!" his brother replied.

"And how exactly we're you hoping to accomplish that?" Dr. Eppes asked with heightened curiosity.

"By making them think that they are shooting at us."

"So I see what you're proposing is that we find some way to hide here and make them think we're in another location."

"Actually I think what Don had in mind is the opposite. Making them think we're here and using that diversion to haul ass out of here," Colby added as he replaced David keeping watch over the top of the rocks that made up the perimeter of their hiding spot. This sent the younger Eppes brother into thought. He tapped his right index finger against his chin for a moment.

"Have you weighed the risk factors in both scenarios?" he finally questioned Don.

"Look Charlie it comes down to this. We need to gain tactical advantage. In order to do that we need to move. Simple as that!" Don shot back. It came out a little more annoyed than he had intended and his brother's expression saddened.

"I trust you Don. I just get tunnel vision sometimes ya know. Weighing the variables. Comparing solutions. I didn't mean to question your judgment."

"I know buddy. It didn't come out the way I meant it too. Don't sweat it, alright?" Don replied quietly and gave his brother a quick pat of the shoulder. It was true. He hadn't meant it harshly. They were simply very short on time. Their window of opportunity before nightfall was shrinking by the second. Don had to get his team to a better protective and strategically advantageous location before they were pinned down by darkness.

"There's a plan tumbling around inside that head of yours, isn't there Agent Eppes?" Megan jumped in with in a teasing tone.

"Oh I have an idea or two!" Don replied with a grin. To this the rest of the team seemed to suddenly perk up. Don's confidence had a way of infecting you, creating a hopeful outlook in the darker moments.

"Do tell!" Reeves replied. Don responded by getting down to business.

"Alright! There are two rules that are written in stone here. First we stick together as a unit. We can't afford to get separated. Second from here on out watch how many rounds you use. We need to make the supply last as long as possible and so it'll be there when we need it the most. Now here's what I was thinking we draw their fire by faking our presence here just long enough to get clear. Only probably is it might cost us a firearm. Now I'm not crazy with that idea. So before I go into detail about that anyone have alternatives?"

--000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000--

Agent Lee Parker stopped short when his finally spotted his boss. MacKenzie had departed the scene outside the mobile command truck so quickly that the junior agent had lost him briefly. When he had found him once again it had been down near the lake. The older agent had been standing on one of the large boulders that lined the shore. He was very still. His gaze fixed out over the water to some far off spot on the mountains on the other side. This was how he was used to seeing his team lead. Centered. Grounded. What had happened with Agent Simmons was a part of MacKenzie you rarely saw, but it was there and the way he had handled Simmons had been just a tiny glimpse of that more keyed up side. It took a lot for his boss to let it flow freely like that. So Parker had left him alone for a few moments to regain his composure. When he had returned MacKenzie had disappeared. He set out to find him again and he had been successful. The older agent was at the open back end of one of the SUVs, packing his gear into it. It was an image that shook Parker more deeply than he had expected it to. MacKenzie belonged here. Belonged in command of this search in the wilderness. He had worked both as a park ranger and on a search and rescue team. Had over a decade with the FBI. He was a natural born leader. It was a heartbreaking blow to have to watch it ripped away from him. To have him sent away. Lee managed to propel himself back into motion when his team lead slammed closed the hatch on the Bureau vehicle.

"Goin' back home?" Parker asked him as he arrived beside the vehicle.

"Nope!" the team lead responded, grabbing his hat from the roof of the truck and placing it atop of his head. The fun loving Indiana Jones hat must have been tucked away somewhere. You always knew that Neil MacKenzie was getting down to business when the black wool cowboy hat came out.

"Where then?"

"Edgerton, Eppes and his team, our team need to be brought home. I know Simmons and he won't put them first. So I will."

"But, sir, he's in command now. He ordered you off the search. He relieved you of duty here."

"Let him do whatever it is he's going to do. But I will not leave those agents hanging out there."

"Simmons sounded serious when he said he'd see they took your badge if you did this."

"Listen, Lee, we all make choices. Once they're made we own them. Good outcome. Bad outcome. I know the consequences of what I'm choosing to do. Brotherhood Parker. It was my watch. My watch doesn't end until every last one of them is home. I can't just walk away."

"Brotherhood huh?"

"Yep."

"Or what everyone says about you is true."

"That I'm a little off my rocker?"

"A little?" Parker braved to suggest. MacKenzie let out a faint chuckle and shook his head then responded verbally.

"A little off my rocker or completely cracked. I need to do this. I should head out!" MacKenzie stated and moved towards the drivers side of the vehicle.

"Way I see it you could use some backup. Off the search or not you're still the lead agent of our team!" Parker called after him.

"Considering this could very well end my career maybe it's best you sit this one out, kid."

"Brothers. Where one goes the other follows, sir."

"Kind of walking myself right into that one, didn't I?" MacKenzie responded with a grin.

"Yes, sir!" Parker answered with his own smile.

"Why do you always call me, _sir_, Parker?" his boss asked, climbing into the SUV.

"Honestly?" Lee questioned as he hopped into the passenger seat.

"Straight out honest."

"Well, sir, I'm kind of afraid of you if I get myself on your bad side."

"As it should be!" MacKenzie stated as his cell rang. He grabbed the phone from his belt and flipped it opened after checking at the caller id.

"Nolan! You have excellent timing!" he greeted the caller.

"Thank you, sir. First chopper is having some sort of mechanical delay. That team is catching a few minutes of shut eye while it's being worked on. Once it's cleared they'll head out for Unit One. Second chopper for Unit Four is fueled up. Brenner and Roberts are already there at flight base for that unit. Who else do you want to go?"

"You know what, Nolan. I think I just might have that covered."

"Sure thing! Hey, um, there's some suit here. Keeps trying to give everybody orders."

"About five nine. Balding. Ugly tie. Got D.C. written all over him."

"Yeah that's him. Seems to be under the impression he's in charge."

"I see. Hey, Nolan, do me a favor, would ya?"

"Sure. What's that boss?"

"Ignore him. He's an idiot!"

"With pleasure!" Nolan replied enthusiastically. The newly arrived agent had been getting on his nerves since the moment he had stepped into mobile command. So much so Nolan had waited until he had excused himself and gone off to the lodge for coffee to call. Nolan knew something major was up, but he sensed what Neil MacKenzie was truly asking for most was a delay. A delay for what he wasn't quite sure of, but his gut told him it was important so he'd put off this D.C. suit as long as he could.

"Thanks for having my back, Seth!" MacKenzie responded. It was the first time the lead agent had called him by his first name and as if it had been code right then and there Seth Nolan knew that all hell was about to break loose.

_To Be Continued_


End file.
